


Incandescence

by Astronautes_et_Dragons



Category: Mistborn - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Powers, F/M, Marriage of Convenience
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2018-12-29 19:05:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12091449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astronautes_et_Dragons/pseuds/Astronautes_et_Dragons
Summary: Marsh did not know it yet, but the day he nearly lost everything would also be the one on which he would gain something very precious to him.





	1. Bachelor button

**Author's Note:**

> The characters and universe belong to Brandon Sanderson, except for my OC.  
> I accept negative feedback as long as it is constructive and helps me improve.  
> Thank you for reading this fanfiction!

All he could see was red.

Red against the sky, red across the ground; it was everywhere. And it was hungry.

The wood, the glass, the metal and the stone —they were not enough. It wanted more, oh, always more!

He knew that it would not stop until it was satiated and go back to its bed of ashes, leaving nothing behind but sorrow and despair.

He also knew that the creature was coming for him.

Marsh woke up with a start, the sheets tangled around his legs.

The room bathed in the light of the moon that filtered through the shutters. This one was gentle, soothing, nothing like the other.

Running a hand down his face, he waited for his heart to stop beating frantically against his chest and to resume a steadier pace, then grabbed the glass of water on the nightstand and downed it in one, long gulp.

It was always what remained stuck in his mind, even long after the end of the night, clinging to him like smoke to clothing —the screams, the crackling sounds and the searing pain.

He found comfort in the crisp morning air and the spectacle of the awakening city as he walked through the industrial district. He could have taken a carriage, like the nobles who seemed unable to go anywhere —even down the street— without this means. It would certainly have spared him the looks full of pity that the inhabitants threw his way as they crossed path, when they were not avoiding eye-contact altogether.

He ignored them.

He had always preferred to walk, and his work place was not very far.

Luthadel Steel was a maze of pipes and chimneys, bearing in that a resemblance to the spiked silhouette of Kredik Shaw, the siege of the government, with its tall and numerous spires. He passed the gate and came briefly to a halt, staring at the place where not long ago melted metallic parts were still scattered over the ground.

He clenched his jaw and resumed his walk.

A few hours later, skimming through his mail that had been brought to him, he noticed a missive from the merchant Philen Frandeu.

He already knew what this was all going to be about without even opening it.

As expected, the letter was full of excuses and justifications. Another buyer who was leaving him.

He brusquely threw the piece of paper away.

If he did not find a solution to keep his clients and swiftly, it will soon be messages from his banker that he will receive. The easiest way would be to marry the daughter of a wealthy merchant or commoner, or the member of a small noble house. But marriage was something he preferred to avoid unless he had absolutely no other choice.

Besides, easy was maybe not the word. He was not exactly a catch. The woman who would agree to become his wife would herself be quite desperate.

Breathing in, he pushed his irritation aside as someone knocked lightly. “Come in.”

The door of his office opened to reveal a man with shaved hair draped in clothing of light yet subdued colors. Metals of different kind adorned his fingers or ran along his ears.

 “What is it, Sazed?”

“I am sorry, I know that you are quite busy,” he said softly,” but I would like to talk with you about an important matter.”

Indeed, it must be serious. He never visited him while he was working or only out of concern for his health, reminding him to rest every so often.

“Do you remember my friend who is in Terris?” he asked as he sat down.

Marsh looked at him with attention. “The blacksmith?”

“Yes. I received a letter from him this morning. He is looking for someone who could supply him with metals.” He paused briefly. “I wanted to inform you before giving him an answer.”

“Do you know what he wants?” Being in business for years, he was perfectly aware that you got nothing without giving something in exchange.

“I must say that I don’t. However, I trust him and he is a reasonable man. A partnership would benefit the both of you, I think.”

He frowned slightly. “Kelsier will have to take my place while I’m away.”

Although he completely trusted his brother when it came to charming potential clients, and even sometimes convincing them to buy or invest more than they should, putting him at the head of a company that he had never cared about was something else entirely. On the other hand, he could not risk vexing the Terrisman by sending him instead of coming in person, and thus to lose his chance and the work of his life.

Sazed smiled. “There will be no need to. He is coming to our city in the next few days.”

He almost sighed in relief but did not dare to hope too much. Not until they meet and reach an agreement.

“I will write to him immediately. Thank you for informing me.”

Entering the small building, Marsh glanced around and spotted a man sitting alone at a table near the window.

Hard to miss him when he was wearing bright colors, as it was customary among his people.

The Terrisman smiled and stood as he approached. Despite his skin and hair being marked by the years, his movements showed that he had lost nothing of his strength and vigor.

“I am Vedlew. Pleased to meet you,” he greeted, extending a hand.

“So am I.”

It did not escape him that the merchant positioned himself in such a way, that when sitting Marsh would not have the right side of his face exposed to the street. Was it out of kindness, or to avoid that a waiter, quite embarrassed, ask them to change seats as he was scaring off clients? If he was not compelled to leave first because at the sight of him the people inside of the restaurant lost any appetite they might have had.

But there were not many clients, and fortunately no children. Did he have to thank him for that as well?

Still, he would have preferred meeting at another moment —no need for small talk and less time wasted.

“I’ve heard that we have a common friend,” the man said. “He spoke highly of you.”

“I trust him and he said that I could trust you.”

A waitress came to take their order. To her credit, she smiled and did not stare at him long enough to be deemed improper.

“He must have told you that I’m looking for a supplier, particularly of steel,” he explained. “If we have excellent blacksmiths in Terris, we are still lagging behind when it comes to exploiting and transforming them.”

“Why did you chose me? There are plenty of other metallurgists. If you are serious and thorough, you are aware that I am currently in difficulty.”

“I trust Sazed, and he said that I could trust you,” Vedlew smiled. “Besides, the others are not as talented as you, and I find that partnership work better when both parties need each other equally. To be honest, I’m quite new in the trade.”

Marsh’s eyes darted to his hands. The steel ring that accompanied that of hammered iron seemed rather new indeed.

“The opportunity to have a purveyor whose metals are renowned for their quality is one to consider attentively,” he continued. “In return, I would help you get out of your delicate situation.”

“How?”

“I commit myself to buy only from you for one year. If our partnership works, I am ready to extend it.”

He pondered upon his words. If he managed to restart his activity, it meant that he would have the guarantee of an income and of a steady situation for a year. Until now, he had not found a better solution than that of the Terrisman.

Now came the tricky part. “What do you want in exchange?”

“That you marry my daughter.”

 

* * *

 

Her skirts gathered in one hand, Forge climbed out of the carriage and took in the house surrounded by a vast expanse of lands, listening absentmindedly to the Terriswoman at her side who was reminding her how to behave and what to say for the umpteenth time since they left their lodgings in Sootwarrens and crossed the city.

Or so she thought, until she noticed that she had actually stopped talking and was now eyeing her critically.

“You’d better no stay gaping like that in their presence, unless you want them to think that you are an impressionable and ignorant peasant.”

“But I am a peasant, and I am impressed,” she retorted.

Tindwyl’s brow creased further. “Do not play clever with me, young lady.”

Fortunately for Vedlew’s daughter, what was going to be a long and tedious lesson about decorum was interrupted by the stomping of hooves. Turning toward the source of the noise, they saw a silhouette in the distance and as the latter became more and more distinct, Forge noticed that the person wearing trousers and riding astride was not male but female. She smiled.

The stranger reached the two women whom she watched with a mixture of curiosity, and more surprisingly, suspicion.

“You are early,” she said flatly.“I’m Vin, Kelsier’s daughter. I will be with you in a moment.”

They were then welcomed by a lad who desperately tried not to draw attention to himself despite his height. His eyes riveted on his shoes and with slightly reddened cheeks, he explained that he worked for Mr. Kelsier and that he went by the name of Spook, before guiding them inside.

The house reflected the taste and elegance of the master instead of power and influence, as it was commonly seen in noblemen.

“Ah, our guests are here!” a cheerful voice said as the small group entered the living room.

Forge immediately smoothed the creases of her dress, and put a strand of hair that had come loose from her bun back in place. Her father had only told her the qualities of the man who was going to be her husband, so that when a man of a slim build with blond and slightly disheveled hair appeared and smiled warmly at her, her heart almost stopped.

Maybe this was not going to be that terrible.

“Welcome to Luthadel, my ladies. I hope you had a safe travel?”

He extended his hand to the young woman who stared at it, momentarily confused until she remember what her chaperon had told her about their customs. She offered him his hand, which he kissed.

“Yes, thank you, sir,” she answered in a light accent.

“Sir! I could get used to that!” he replied, his eyes sparkling. “But please, call me Kelsier; we are going to be family after all.” He turned slightly away.

“Don’t be so shy, come join us!”

She then remarked that there was someone else in the room, withdrawn and partly hidden. If her smile faltered when she realized that she had been mistaken, it disappeared entirely as her future husband approached, accompanied by the sound of a cane hitting the floor rhythmically.

“Miss Forge, allow me to introduce you to my brother, Marsh.”

Everything about him was stern —the sobriety of his dark clothing, his square and broad jaw, his gaze; an impression that was accentuated by his close-cropped hair. And despite her very best efforts, she could not help but stare at the right side of his face.

From his eye, blue and thinly veiled while the other was gray to his sharp cheekbone, it was nothing but scars and melted skin.

She gave him a strained smile. By Harmony, what had she gotten herself into?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bachelor button: celibacy. Believe to determine if a relationship will be lasting or not.


	2. Peony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos and for reading!

Forge refrained from clearing her throat, a noise that would have been as discrete as a cry in the silence between them. Her eyes darted in the direction of Vin, Kelsier and Tindwyl who were discussing a few meters ahead.

Her mouth pressed into a thin line, and her fingers tensed even more on her future husband’s arm.

She was half a mind to annoy him with pointless and endless chatter, or to embarrass him so much that he would flee at the mere mention of her name. And if it did not work, if his desire for wealth proved to be deeper than his irritation, his determination stronger than his discomfort, it surely must not be greater than his pride as a man.

_Please, we should make a pause. You’re talking so much that I have a headache._

_So many interesting thoughts that I don’t know where to begin!_

She was also tempted to stay stubbornly quiet, just like him. Judging from his behavior, he was as eager and as willing as her to get married. Should they not help each other, then? Should they not be _both_ trying to make the whole thing a lot easier for them?

Maybe he was incredibly shy?

If he was, he sure hid it very well under all those layers of severity and solemnity. No, let’s be realistic; he was just giving her the silent treatment because he did not want to have anything to do with her. Did he truly think that she was going to disappear and leave him alone if he pretended long enough that she was not there?

She fought the urge to dig her nails in his arm. This marriage was far too important for her father. Thus, she breathed in deeply and proceeded.

“What is the age difference between you and your brother?” Although they both were in their mid-thirties, Kelsier appeared to be younger.

“I’m two years older.”

She paused briefly, pensive. “I wonder what it is like, never to be alone, to grow up with someone you can count on, with whom you can share many things, and who can understand you like no one else.”

“So do I,” he replied abruptly.

Great, she picked up the sole subject that was absolutely to be avoided. A change was in order.

“How long have you been in Luthadel?”

“I was born and raised here.”

“I suppose you have traveled to the other regions for business?”

“Yes. Mostly to the western and eastern dominance.”

“And Terris?” she asked, a bit hesitant. Flickering to his face, her dark brown eyes met his. She quickly averted her gaze.

“Never,” he replied after a moment. “But Sazed, who is your father’s friend and also mine, told me about his home.”

“It’s the first time I leave Terris,” she confided. “I have the impression to know Scadrial a little because I’ve read about your lands but well, it’s different to learn or hear about them, and to actually experience them.”

She halted in her speech, realizing how he could have understood her words, and bit her tongue. She might just vex him without meaning to.

“I-I was not judging you, or anything. I do realize that your work requires a lot of your time.”

She felt him stare, but he did not make any comment. Silence reigned till the end of their walk, her admiring her surroundings, and he lost in his thoughts.

“So, how did it go?” Kelsier inquired after his sibling accompanied the Terriswomen back to their carriage.

“You should be the one marrying her.”

“That bad, he?”

If she did not run away screaming, Marsh had noticed how she flinched when he kissed her hand. How she first looked at him. How she was unable to hold his gaze.

How she smiled to his brother.

“Well, that’s not very surprising, you had never met,” the latter said encouragingly. “With time, you will grow comfortable around each other.”

Marsh leveled at him one of his stares for which he was so famous. “Vedlew still might have agreed. But naturally, it would be far less convenient for you.”

Kelsier frowned, all cheerfulness gone. “Are you seriously doing what I think you’re doing?”

“Don’t deny it; we both know that’s the truth.”

“So what, it’s me who arranged everything? Who hurt you and schemed so you would marry his daughter?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he huffed.

“Same for you. You could just give up that steel mill and do something else.”

“You know that I can’t!” Marsh snapped, his cane sharply hitting the floor.

They stared at each other. “As much as I would like to stop and appreciate the irony of this moment after all the lectures you put me through, here is a piece of advice which I will give you even if you don’t want me to” Kelsier replied calmly. “Stop living in the past. There is not a single day that I don’t miss them, believe me, but if you keep on like that, that will destroy you. And I have only one brother.”

Leaning on her elbow, Forge watched the landscape go by. There were so many buildings and so many people here.

“You are displeased,” Tindwyl observed.

“Father and you should have told me about his burn. It would have prevented me from staring rudely.”

“Would you have accepted to marry him, then?” her friend asked, unimpressed.

She glared at her. “I’m not _that_ vain. I’ve been raised to believe that appearances are not everything or all that matters.”

“I saw how you looked at his brother.”

Her cheeks heated up. “Well, I can’t say that he is not handsome; it’s a fact,” she retorted with a touch of annoyance. “Saying otherwise would be lying.”

She turned her attention back to the window, signaling that the conversation was closed.

 

* * *

 

Marsh helped the young Terriswoman step off the carriage after the latter came to a halt in front of a sumptuous house with high, ornate windows and placed her on his right, where she would not be met with the sight of his scars. When they entered the spacious ball room, many nobles turned in their direction, whispering, and Forge knew that it was not because of her garments which were humble compared to the exquisite and sometimes extravagant attires of the ladies, whose lace and shimmering fabric rivaled with their intricate hairdo. She unconsciously moved closer to Marsh.

They must make quite a pair, him with his marred face and her with her uncommon height.

That had disconcerted him a bit when they first met, as he was not used to being almost at eye-level with men and even less with the opposite sex. At least, she had had enough common sense —or her chaperone was remarkably competent— to choose a dress that had the same shape than those worn by the women of this dominance, however in a tone that was considered too vivid for them. Thus, she did appear desperate to fit in when her appearance was a constant reminder that she was foreign but did not stand out too much either. He noticed her looking with curiosity at a lad who was coming their way.

“Good evening, Marsh, and welcome.”

Kelsier’s brother nodded and slightly turned toward her. “Forge, this is is Elend, heir of House Venture which is the wealthiest and the most powerful of the ten noble families in Luthadel. His father, Straff Venture, owns the mining company that provides the ore I use.”

“Please,” he winced, “Enduring this ball is already painful enough; I’d rather not talk about my father or his business.”

“— and Elend, this is my fiancee, Forge,” he finished.

“Oh, yes, I interrupted you, sorry. I’m afraid I’ve lost my manners somewhere in that room.”

“Along with your hairbrush, maybe?” Forge said. He did not have the appearance of a noble at all, with his disheveled clothes and his untamed brown curls. Tindwyl would have thrown a fit.

His eyes grew wide. Her future husband looked sharply at her. She cleared her throat.

“I-I’m sorry, I did not mean to be disrespectful,” she began slowly.

But Elend grinned. “You see, that’s one of the reasons I don’t like balls —too many nobles, very few interesting people. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

She sighed internally and smiled. “Pleasure is mine.”

“She’s not here. You should know that Kell is always late,” Marsh said as he remarked him glancing at the people still flowing in.

A tinge of red colored Elend’s cheeks. “Naturally. Well, excuse me but I’m going to greet the other guests and see if I can find my manners at the same time,” he announced before adding with a smile. “Not my hairbrush, obviously I don’t care.”

“You’re lucky that it was him,” Marsh hissed as he guided Forge toward the side of the room claimed by people who were discussing or watching the couples dance.

“I’m sorry, I did not mean to—”

“Never do that again.”

She merely nodded, her anxiety as to what could have occurred if Elend had felt offended —By Harmony, he had just mentioned that his family was his supplier! Not to mention the most influential in the city— being stronger than her irritation. She might be clumsy but she was not a child or an idiot, thank you very much.

However, she quickly forgot that mishap as she observed the dancers twirl across the floor, a smile on her lips.

“You can dance?” Marsh asked her. She tentatively took his hand and they placed themselves as the next song started. Forge recognized the dance for being one with simple gestures, reasonable physical contact and no change of partners. Tindwyl had made sure that she knew some movements before leaving her home, knowing that she would attend social events that required such knowledge and skill. She tried to look at Marsh, but her gaze would stay on his face merely for a few seconds before turning toward the ground.

A short, blond-haired lady coming toward them after they returned to their place did nothing to alleviate her uneasiness.

“Mr. Marsh,” she greeted, all smiles. “I heard that you’re engaged. Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” he replied in a tone that indicated that he did not mean it at all. If the noblewoman noticed, she showed none of it, directing her attention toward Vedlew’s daughter instead.

“I’m Lady Kliss.”

“Forge,” she replied.

“What a peculiar name; you must be quite special. Now, tell me how the two of you met. I love stories.”

Her eyes darted in the direction of her soon to be husband. “We met through a common friend from Terris. His name is Sazed; I’m sure you’ve heard of him too,” the latter replied.

“Indeed. I’ve never been to Terris but I was told that it was a lovely country. And their wool! So warm and soft to the touch!”

“Thank you for appreciating our talent but as you certainly know,” Forge said before he had the time to do anything, “not all of us are farmers. Our capital has one of the greatest libraries and our observatory is absolutely worth the visit.” She returned her smile, obviously not genuine.

Marsh remarked how she reminded her that her people did not grow among sheep or run in fields of flowers, laughing and singing, as she seemed to think. The lady was about to reply when conversations turned abruptly to whispers. Some of the guests smiled while others scowled, but they were all looking toward the entrance.

Kelsier stepped in a few moments later, a smirk on his lips, accompanied by Vin who was absolutely stunning in her dress of a deep red color that brought out her dark hair and pale skin. The noblewoman left them without even sparing a glance. Forge did not know whether she should be annoyed or relieved.

She looked at Marsh, who was observing Elend inviting Vin to dance under Kelsier’s glare, and noticed how the steel in his gaze had hardened.

What happened between them to create such a reaction?

“I don’t know what I did to her to deserve that,” Kelsier declared as he joined them, “but I have the feeling that I’m going to end up with a noble as a son-in-law.”

He smiled. “Miss Forge, has my brother invited you to dance?”

“Yes, some moments before you arrive.”

His eyebrows rose, and he leaned in. “Do not mind him, you can tell me the truth,” he whispered loud enough to be heard by the persons in his vicinity.

Marsh rolled his eyes.

“I assure you that it’s the truth,” she replied, slightly amused.

“Would you do me the honor of a dance as well, then?”

Marsh expected her to accept and leave, but she turned toward him instead. He swiftly regained countenance, although his stoic expression gave nothing of his surprise away, and nodded curtly.

At the end of the dance, they had barely pulled away from each other that a young lady almost threw herself at Kelsier, urging him to dance with her under the bewildered look of Forge who felt slightly worried for him. However, he signaled for her that it was alright and thus she went back to his brother, who was discussing with two strangers.

“Forge, this is Lord Breeze Ladrian and his wife Lady Allrianne of house Cett.”

“Pleased to meet you,” she curtsied, trying to hide her shock as best she could. The portly man dressed in elegant clothing was almost twice the age of the woman on his arm, whose plump silhouette was draped in lace and pink.

Allrianne reached out and took her hands in hers. “I’m very happy to meet you! I asked Marsh to tell me more about you after you met, but he would not tell me anything!” she complained before turning toward him, her eyes narrowed. “And no need to go Ironeyes on me, that does not work.”

“But then you would not have much to ask her or to tell her,” Breeze offered.

“You’re right, as always,” she said tenderly.

Forge felt a smile tug at her lips. She hastily composed a neutral expression as he addressed her.

“I gathered that you also come from Terris?”

“Indeed, my lord.”

He waved a hand. “Breeze would be enough. Pardon me for my straightforwardness, but you do not quite look like the Terris people.”

If her height, the metallic piece wrapping the side of her ear and her clothing indicated that she was not from Luthadel or the central dominance, her skin was of a lighter brown than that of Sazed and Tindwyl, and her features more prominent.

“Oh, that’s because my mother is from Scadrial.”

They talk a bit more until Marsh told her that he was accompanying her back to her lodgings.

Soon, after a night spent dancing, it would be to his house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peony: bashfulness.


	3. ivy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kuddos and for reading!

Tindwyl adjusted the flower crown with a satisfied expression, which quickly turned into a frown when her eyes fell on Forge’s face.

“Don’t be so depressed. You’re looking as if you’re going to run for the door on the first opportunity you get.”

“What an interesting idea. Also, someone obviously made a mistake,” she replied, gesturing at the garland. “We should remove the roses. Everyone is aware that we are not marrying for love. Do you know what the flower for agreement, deal or interest is? I can’t remember.”

“If you truly do not want to do that, just say so or stop complaining,” her chaperone chided, ignoring the glare she sent her in the looking-glass as she checked her hairdo one last time.

She then noticed that she was staring at her bare ring finger. Her gaze softened. “The situation is different. That will not be the same with him.”

“How can you be so sure?” Vedlew’s daughter asked, turning in her chair to face her. “The only thing I’m certain of is that he will be angry when he finds out about me. And with good reason. Maybe I should have told him, after all.”

The Terriswoman remained silent for a moment. “It’s time to go; they are all waiting for you.”

“You should consider putting on that thing we call smile,” Kelsier whispered as he slightly leant forward, careful not to drop the wedding bands that lay on the cushion he was carrying.

Marsh did not respond, and the arrival of Forge on her father’s arm prevented his brother from teasing him further. He watched her till she stopped in front of him, her lips stretched into a forced smile. She quickly looked down as he did not reciprocate the gesture.

The priest took place behind the altar. While the clothing of the bride and groom were completely white, his garb displayed an intricate pattern of black lines along the collar and the hem of the sleeves. These were the colors of Preservation and Ruin, the deities worshipped in Scadrial; opposite but indispensable to each other for there could be no progress without change, and no life without stability and order.

“We are gathered here today, under the watchful eyes of the gods, to celebrate the union of two people. Does anybody know a reason why they should not become one?”

Silence answered him. He continued. “Marsh, do you agree to take Forge as your wife?”

“I agree to take you, Forge, as my wife, to preserve your health and happiness, to destroy your misfortunes, and to love and cherish you in this life and the next.”

He picked up the silver wedding band and slipped it on her finger.

“Forge, do you agree to take Marsh as your husband?”

She did not answer immediately, and felt his steel and serious gaze on her. “Yes,” she finally breathed, looking up. “I agree to take you, Marsh, as my husband, to preserve your health and happiness, to be faithful and obedient, and to love and cherish you in this life and the next.”

She was shaking slightly when she slipped the ring on his finger. Tindwyl must certainly feel relieved that she did not change her mind and make a scene.

The priest brought their hands together, and took a cord formed of a black and white ribbons intertwined. This was supposed to embody the indestructible bounds that made their souls one, but to her this just seemed to be a nice reminder of what she was about to lose. She glanced at Marsh, who had his eyes riveted on their hands, and could have sworn that his jaw clenched although that had been barely perceptible. Well, that they were made of the finest silk or sturdiest iron did not matter —shackles were still shackles.

“May Preservation offer you a long, peaceful and happy life,” the priest declared, wrapping the braid around their hands.

“May Ruin drive away dangers, sorrows and enemies,” he finished, wrapping it another time. “By the powers that have been granted to me, I declare you now husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Forge’s whole body stiffened as he slowly bent down and brushed his lips with hers. Their families and friends cheered, but she could not bring herself to share their enthusiasm, nor did Marsh.

The wedding band felt heavy on their fingers.

 

* * *

 

If they were not cheerful, Allrianne was enough for the both of them. The noblewoman had been chattering about weddings and love through the whole first meal, her blonde locks skillfully piled on the top of her head threatening to come loose at every energetic movement. Patient, Sazed indulged her while Vin displayed a mild annoyance despite the few seats separating them; however the latter ceased whenever Elend talked to her. The only person who seemed even more dissatisfied than them was Cladant, a retired general whom she also learned to be Spook’s uncle and a talented carpenter, but apparently he was grumpy about everything and to everyone.

Forge did not find herself questioning her husband’s table arrangement until Breeze and Hammond, a friend of Kelsier who served with him in the military, began bickering about some philosophical question after Sazed stirred the conversation toward more religious considerations.

“Don’t worry, they are always like that,” Kelsier smiled, catching her worried frown. “That’s why we made sure that they were at the end of the table,” he added with a wink.

Indeed, his wife Mardra was perfectly calmed and composed, obviously not feeling the urge to interfere. The young Terriswoman blushed. She should give Marsh more credit; they were his friends after all —he knew them.

Her discomfort increased all the more when they had to open the dance, her inability to look at him in the eyes for everyone to see. She had the impression that he could feel how clammy her hands were despite the gloves, and that the musicians were mocking her with a song that was painfully long. She hardly had the time to sigh in relief when Marsh let go of her, for someone made her twirl and stop in front of them.

“I won’t keep her away from you for more than a dance, I promise,” Kelsier said.

His sibling eyed him for a moment and left. They started to move across the floor, surrounded by the other couples.

“You are gorgeous; I haven’t had the opportunity to tell you that earlier.”

“Thank you,” she replied softly. “I am very grateful to you for having taken care of the organization of the wedding.”

“To be honest it is thanks to Dockson, a friend of mine who unfortunately could not come, but I’ll accept your kind words.”

She smiled to him in response. The resemblance between the brothers was striking; they had the same lean face, the same tall and lanky figure. But she noticed some differences here and there. His eyes were hazel, his shoulders narrower, and his hair of a darker blonde. As for his voice, the latter was low but not rough.

She was also feeling the difference between the two —the warmth and easiness of his manners, the smile always playing on his lips, his playful retorts.

_I saw how you looked at his brother._

She averted her eyes and fought the impulse to leave him in the middle of the dance. A part of her chuckled sarcastically. Would that not be wonderfully ironical if she fell in love with her husband’s brother?

Unbeknownst to her, Marsh was observing them from the side of the room. As Kelsier and Forge turned, her hair and skin suddenly took the colors of a winter night; her frame became shorter, her curves more pronounced. They were both dressed in white, oblivious to the rest of the world as if there were only them.

His grip on his cane tightened.

“She’s lovely, isn’t she?” Vedlew asked as he joined him, pulling him out of his thoughts.

Marsh did not answer immediately. Upon meeting her, a part of him had been secretly pleased to see that she was rather unattractive. That made everything a bit less cruel for him.

“I suppose. I do not care much about looks.”

“A wise and careful conduct,” he agreed. “You will take good care of my daughter.”

At that, he turned sharply to him. The Terrisman quickly raised his hand in a placating gesture. “I was not insinuating the contrary. I just wanted you to know that I have entrusted you with what is most precious to me. She is all I have left in this world.”

 

* * *

 

Nothing could have truly differentiated Marsh’s house from the others lining the street in the heart of the industrial district. No large grounds surrounding the building, no plant at the windows piercing the first and second floors.

Inhaling deeply, Forge entered and was met with a living-room on the left of the entrance. The space was occupied by a table sculpted out of wood at which five persons could be seated, and by two comfortable armchairs placed in front of the hearth. Apart from the rug —which she remarked with surprise to be from Terris— there were not many decorations, unless the variation of colorful leather spines covering most of the walls was considered as such. She caught a glimpse of what she supposed to be the kitchen, but had not the opportunity to check as her husband went up stairs and she followed suit, lifting her dress so she would not stumble and fall.

“Here is your bedroom,” he said, gesturing to the door on her left. “I’ve seen that all of your belongings have been brought in.”

“Thank you.”

“I will see you in the morning, but if there is a problem I’m right next to you. I wish you a good night.” He was about to withdraw, when he noticed that she did not move.

May she not ask him to help her with her dress. “Is something wrong?”

“It’s true that I don’t know all of your customs, and so I am maybe mistaken, but…,” she cleared her throat. “Are we not supposed to…stay together?”

All of a sudden, his posture straightened. “Did you truly believe that I was going to have sex with you when we barely know each other?” he replied abruptly, his eyes flashing with anger. What kind of man she thought he was?

She did not answer, a bit sheepish. Well, was there not also a wedding night in their country?

“I am aware that as your husband I have duties and I will not run away from them, but I will not fulfill them tonight.”

Her sigh was everything but discrete. He gritted his teeth and abruptly entered his room, closing the door a bit more forcefully than necessary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ivy: marriage.


	4. Goldenrod

Morning arrived as quickly as the weather changes in her lands.

After sharing a breakfast in silence, Marsh and Forge left the industrial district for Sootwarrens and joined Vedlew and Tindwyl at the Pewter Gate, one of the eight that pierced the tall ramparts circling the capital, and the nearest to the Terris border. It was time for them to go back home.

“Remember what I told you,” her chaperone said.

Forge rolled her eyes, although that was more out of playfulness than real annoyance. “I don’t know how I could forget your endless hours of lessons.”

“More importantly, don’t do anything stupid,” she added in a lower voice, casting a quick glance at Kelsier’s brother who was shaking hands with the merchant.

“Goodbye, Mr. Marsh. I wish the both of us to be successful, and know that you will always be welcome into my house.”

“Thank you. You will always have friends in Luthadel.”

When Vedlew turned to his daughter the latter was conflicted, eager to escape Tindwyl but also reluctant to tell him goodbye for that would mark the moment of their separation. Then, she would find herself alone in a city that was almost unknown to her. However, that was not what she apprehended most.

“Have a safe travel. I will write to you.”

“I look forward to reading your letters. May Harmony watch over you,” her father replied as they embraced each other.

She slowly let go of him, and after a bow of his head he took place beside the older Terriswoman.

“I must go,” Marsh declared. “I have lunch in my office, so don’t wait for me. Sazed will call on you in the morning to explain a few things. A carriage will take you back to the house.”

Watching the horses go away, she distractedly noted that he did not say 'home' or 'our home.'

“Thank you.”

He nodded. “I will see you tonight.”

True to his words, Sazed arrived an hour later, dressed in clothing from the central dominance. He bowed upon greeting her, and entered at her invitation.

“Would you like some refreshments?”

“No, thank you,” he declined politely as he sat down in the armchair. “I wished to tell you something at the wedding before changing my mind, as that was a long time ago and thus I was not certain that you remembered, but I used to visiting you and your father before I leave Terris.”

“I do remember, and I was happy to see you again. What do you do here exactly? Do you only teach? You appear to have many other possibilities,” Forge remarked with the hint of a smile, her eyes on his adorned fingers. He had told her that he was a teacher specialized in history —which was proved by his bronze band inlaid with copper— and that Kelsier requiring his services for Vin, he had eventually met Marsh.

Sazed looked down at his rings, one of them made of zinc. “I am knowledgeable in science and religions,” he then gestured at the pieces of gold on his ears, “and also trained in healing, as you can see.”

“Are you the one who took care of Marsh?”

He was caught off guard despite himself. One would believe that he was used to abruptness with a friend such as her husband. “Yes,” he replied carefully, expecting her to discuss the matter further. However, she did none of that, changing subject instead.

“Apparently you have something to tell me?”

He almost sighed in relief. “Indeed. As you may be aware now, Marsh always eats at work. He also tends to come home late in the evening. Thus, he has a maid taking care of the laundry and the house for him, and a person who runs errand. They are not always here, as they are not his servants.”

“He cooks himself?” she wondered aloud.

“Yes,” he confirmed, slightly amused by her surprise.

“Am I expected to do all of that? You know, as his wife?”

He smiled kindly. “Marsh and Kelsier’s father was noble, but they have never considered themselves as such.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Kelsier’s house and lifestyle seem to say otherwise.”

“Kelsier likes to show nobles that he can have the same life than them without belonging to their world. And since he knows that that behavior infuriates them, he is not going to stop any time soon. However, he strongly dislikes them and the feeling is reciprocated more often than not.”

That explained why he was so disapproving of his daughter’s relationship with Elend. She had thought that it was only his father instinct responding, but obviously there was more to that. Then, a thought occurred to her. “Are not Breeze and Allrianne high born?”

“They are the exceptions. And to answer your former question, Marsh will have no objections to you having a work, I think.”

That was good news. She was not sure that she would do well if she had to stay in the house all day long without being much occupied. How the women from the nobility managed?

“But,” he began. She groaned internally. She should have known that there was some condition. “I have to warn you that you will have difficulties to get the same job than that you had before moving here. Women are usually employed as nurses, teachers, seamstresses and servants. Some work in the fields, but they do not take care of livestock.”

“Good thing I learned how to weave, then.”

He studied her, and noted her wedding band and only one piece of iron enveloping her ear; there was no trace of a second one made of the same metal proving that she was qualified for such a thing. She grinned.

“It’s not an official formation. I weaved with the elder ladies of my village when I was younger.”

“Weaving is no longer exclusively made by hand in Scadrial but you should manage, I think.”

“Will you stay for lunch? I would not mind some company.”

“With pleasure.”

The young woman went to the kitchen, and looking into the pantry she noticed several goods from her country. “How do you feel about rice with roasted vegetables? Unless you want to eat something else?”

“No, thank you, this is fine by me.”

That being decided, they divided the tasks between them.

“Are there any restaurants serving Terris food in the capital?”

“Yes, but the owners are usually from Scadrial and thus are not familiar with some of our meals, the most elaborate in particular.”

“We should tell our people to consider becoming cooks and to come here, then,” she grinned. “I’m sure that their restaurants would be crowded.”

Once everything was ready, they seated themselves at the table that the Terrisman had laid while she was taking care of the fire.

“I wanted to ask you; what does ‘going Ironeyes on someone’ mean?”

He suppressed a chuckle. “Actually, it is not an expression. Not really. This refers to Marsh’s nickname.”

From the lack of further enquiries and the look on her face, Sazed deduced that she already had an idea of what that meant or referred to. Nevertheless, for her sake and that of his friend, he did not pry. They spent the rest of the lunch conversing agreeably about their country and occupations, until it was time for the scholar to go home and for her to get prepared, Allrianne having insisted that they shop together in the afternoon.

“Thank you,” Forge said as he put his coat on. “It had been a while since I cooked or shared a meal like that with someone.”

He bowed his head, and added after a moment of hesitation. “Do not worry about Marsh. He might appear intimidating and serious, but he is truly kind. You will realize that yourself, I assure you.”

She gave him a half-convincing smile. A part of her found quite puzzling that Sazed would esteem someone cold and unforgiving when he was so warm and benevolent, but she suspected that the Terrisman tended to see good in everybody and she had yet to truly perceive the heart underneath the steely exterior.

Forge was informed of Allrianne’s arrival by the clatter of hooves. She answered the door, and was met with the young woman wearing a pink, vaporous dress that reminded her of clouds at dawn, which contrasted nicely with her light and elegant blue coat.

“Hi!” the noblewoman greeted. “I can’t wait to show you around!”

She took her arm as soon as she closed the door, startling her a bit, and they walked toward her carriage.

“I asked Vin if she would come with us, but she refused. Apparently, she had a fencing lesson.”

Her friend was hardly surprised by the reluctance of Kelsier’s daughter after what had transpired during the wedding, or by her interests. From what she had already observed, the dark-haired woman was quite unconventional. A quality that a rebellious man like Elend must find appealing.

Instead of immediately crossing the River Channerel that divided Luthadel, they took the main road leading to the siege of the government, so the Terriswoman had the opportunity to admire the building she had heard so much about.

“We will have to stop here and to go on foot,” Breeze’s wife announced a few moments after they entered the commercial district.

Forge understood why when she stepped off the carriage and saw the sheer amount of people in the streets. Out of all the cities across the dominances, Luthadel was the biggest. Even Tathingdwen, the capital of her country, did not compare to this.

“There is someone I want you to meet,” Allrianne said, locking arm with her and guiding her to a shop.

Since there was no one in sight except for a couple of clients, Forge seized the occasion to examine her surroundings, running her fingers over the delicate embroidery of a gown.

Cerulean blue, fresh green, tender lilac —she was no longer in the city but in the middle of a meadow.

Her attention was caught by the arrival of a slim man with short, dark chestnut hair. “Lady Allrianne, what a pleasure!” he said in a clear voice before kissing her hand.

“Feldeu,” she greeted back. “This is my friend, Mrs. Marsh.”

The latter smiled uneasily, aware that several of the customers were now staring at her and whispering among themselves, and realized for the first time that she no longer was just Forge in the eyes of others. She was the wife of the famous owner of a steel mill who was currently in difficulty.

Surprise flickered on his features but he soon regained countenance, and gracefully kissed her hand. “This is a pleasure to meet you.”

“Pleasure is mine.”

“He is the dressmaker I told you about and who made my wedding dress, as well as many of my garments,” the younger woman explained. “He is the most talented of all the dominances.”

“My lady is too kind,” he replied humbly. “If you don’t find any dress that suits you, I would be more than happy to show you the new fabrics I’ve received.”

“ _That_ is too kind of you." The tailor bowed, and went to a client who was asking for his advice.

Forge resumed her examination, which kept her thoughts away from the women’s comments and scrutiny. “How did you and Breeze meet?”

“He was on a diplomatic mission in Fadrex City, in the western dominance, and I made sure that when he left he would do so with only me on his mind. That was a bit like you and Marsh met—thanks to business.”

How she and Marsh met was completely different. None of them tried to catch the eye of the other. None of them left with the imperious desire to see each other again. She had felt all of that, once. That seemed to be such a long time ago.

“You’re not going to buy anything?”

She blinked. “What?”

“You’ve been looking at the dresses for a while, but you haven’t taken any.”

“Well, to tell the truth I am not used to dresses,” she smiled, scratching the nape of her neck. She had accepted her invitation because that would give her the opportunity to get to know her, and because she did not want to vex the young woman by refusing. “And I must say that I don’t even know how women from Scadrial manage to move with all those layers, or even to breathe.”

Allrianne laughed, a bubbly and pleasant sound. “Vin thought exactly the same before I taught her how to wear them. She grew quite fond of dresses, although she would never admit that. But if you truly don’t feel comfortable, Feldeu can make some adjustments for you.”

“Thank you. I think that would be better.”

“Friends help each other.”

 

* * *

 

 Marsh was welcomed home by the smell of food, and noise in the kitchen.

When Forge appeared, he was standing in the entrance, his coat still on.

“Hi. Diner is almost ready; you can go and change if you want.”

His eyes darted to the living room. The table was dressed for two. “I won’t be long.”

As they began to eat, she watched a bit anxiously at his reaction. She used what was in the pantry, and thus she was sure that he liked the ingredients, but that did not mean that he liked the way they were cooked. However, his expression did not betray anything and he did not make any comment.

“How was your day?” she ventured.

“Busy.”

She waited for him to elaborate, but in vain.

Stoic, and definitely not loquacious.

“I went shopping with Allrianne, so I had a glimpse of the commercial district and of Luthadel, but I was wondering if you could show me the city, since you were born here?”

He met her hopeful and expectant look, and they hold each other’s gaze for a moment before she turned her attention back to her plate.

“I can’t. There’s still a lot to do.”

“Oh. I understand,” she replied in a tone that showed her disappointment.

“But I’m sure that Sazed or one of your new acquaintances will gladly accept to show you the city.”

They spent the rest of the meal in silence, and retreated to their rooms after wishing each other a good night. Forge recalled his friend’s words, and could only hope that their relationship would improve with time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goldenrod: encouragement.


	5. Petunia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank for very much for the kudos and for reading!

In. Out. In. Out.

Marsh’s eyes darted toward the bright flame of the converter as he and his employee drew nearer to the two men arguing.

In. Out. In. Out.

The right side of his face tingled.

In. Out. In. Out.

He looked away, and focused on the workers who had fallen silent upon noticing him.

“What is going on here?”

He had been perusing the documents sent by Dockson regarding the transport of the production to Terris via canals, when he was informed that his presence was requested at the steel mill without delay.

“Bilg can’t work but refuses to stop,” Penrod explained, glaring at the younger man despite the latter being able to lift him as easily as the wind would with a leaf.

“I can! And it’s certainly not you that will tell me what to do! There’s not any—”

His protestations were interrupted by a coughing fit that made him double over. Once it passed, he looked up at Kelsier’s brother. The latter was staring at him, arms crossed.

“In my office. Now.”

They had barely sat down that the bulky man opened his mouth.

“Spare you the trouble,” Marsh cut as he reached for the drawer of his desk. “I’m sending you home.”

“You can’t. You need me. I’m one of your strongest men,” he retorted, tilting his chin up.

Marsh slowly put down the small, locked box, eyes fixed on him. If making steel required high skills, it was also exhausting. They both knew that, hence his attempt at pressuring him.

“That’s true. But what do you think I will choose between your welfare and that of all the other workers?” he asked in a voice that was worryingly quiet. “Penrod might be a bit overzealous at time but he is right; in this condition you are a danger to those around you and to yourself. I don’t think that I need to remind you that our work can be dangerous.”

Bilg's gaze flickered to his burn and scars. He looked down. “I need that money.”

“I’m aware,” Marsh merely replied before producing a key from the inner pocket of his vest.

The worker observed him as he opened the chest and started to count what he quickly realized to be coins.

“Here is your pay for the day,” he said, extending his arm toward him. “Go to a doctor. I don’t want to see you here till you’re fit to work. And don’t try to fool me, I’ll be watching.”

“I— thank you.”

He gave him a curt nod. “Next time you act like that, you won’t have any job to return to. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir,” he said a bit sheepishly.

Marsh scrutinized him for a moment. Although the man was strong-headed and quick to protest, he seemed to acknowledge his mistake.

“You can go.”

* * *

 

Forge stretched in the armchair, _A history of Luthadel_ on her knees, before picking up the book along with those piled on the table.

“Here, join your friends,” she muttered as she put them back to their places.

Her fingers ran over the spines, and her eyes brightened with all the knowledge that was still awaiting her. Most of the books were about history, although she had noticed some about herbs and plants, along with a couple of. There were even a few written in her language. Noticing one without any title, she paused. However, she did not have the time to take a closer look for someone knocked. Her hand reluctantly moved away.

The young Terriswoman fought the urge to slam the door shut, memories from the wedding flooding her mind.

In front of her stood Kelsier.

“Good afternoon. I thought that you would like to visit Luthadel? With Allrianne, you have certainly seen nothing but the shopping area.”

“Are you here on Marsh’s behalf?”

“No. You will quickly learn that I don’t receive orders from anybody,” he grinned.

So, he came of his own accord to spend time with her, and apart from Vin it was likely that no one knew where he was. Why did it have to be him of all people? Why did he show up at all?

She momentarily contemplated turning down the offer. Would that not be suspicious if she was seen with him? But would that not also be suspicious if she avoided him any opportunity she got?

“I am ready; we can go,” she eventually replied.

“Actually, you might want to change your clothing,” he said with a small smile.

Confused, she looked down and realized that she was wearing pants. While the latter were comfortable indeed, they might not be appropriate for a walk in the city.

“Oh, yes, you’re right. I had completely forgotten. I’ll be quick.”

Without thinking, she closed the door.

* * *

 

Their first stop was Kredik Shaw, for Vedlew’s daughter had only caught a glimpse of it and expressed her wish to see the latter properly. From up close, the building was even more impressive, and she suddenly felt small; there was also something intimidating about those multiple spires and towers of various sizes soaring toward the sky.

Forge meant to draw nearer, but Kelsier gently pulled her back by her elbow. “You can’t go further; it’s forbidden.”

Glancing at him, she noticed that he was looking at something on the left. A few meters away stood a man —or at least she assumed from the frame that it was a man. Not easy to tell with that hooded cloak— clad in black from head to toe, his metallic mask etched with intricate markings and a deep red line angled at them.

How could she have missed him?

She stepped back. The expressionless face turned to look forward.

“What are they?” she whispered ten good minutes after they leave, as if the dark figure could hear them.

“Steel Inquisitors. The royal guard.”

“What’s with the creepy name and looks?”

“Precisely to deter anyone from making something stupid, like breaking into the palace and attacking or dear Lord Ruler,” her companion explained. “So, unless this is exactly what you have in mind, you won’t have to deal with them.”

Her nervousness ebbed away as Marsh’s brother led her further into the city and to Club’s shop. She spent so much time admiring the wooden works that the former general scowled that if she kept staring at them like that she would have to buy one. His friend had reassured her that he did not mean it, which earned him a few reproaches about him stealing his nephew. After all, the boy was quite useful.

“How are you doing, here?” Kelsier inquired while they were on their way back.

“Well, I still need some time to adjust; your country is very different from mine.”

He hummed in agreement. “And the Industrial District is not one of the best places. Few trees, too much ash and smoke.”

“I can’t ask Marsh to move out, can I?”

“I have the feeling that he will disagree. But if you are as half persuasive as me, maybe you can manage,” he joked. “Speaking of him, how are things between the two of you?”

Her hand being around his arm, he was pulled backward as she abruptly stopped.

“Did you invite me to show me the city or to get information on him?” she asked with narrowed eyes.

“A bit of both?”

“I don’t like getting ambushed,” she replied in a tone that clearly showed she was not amused.

“Ambushed! Being ambushed does not feel like that, and trust me I know what I’m talking about,” he replied. “Also, I’m doing that for you. I want you to understand that if there is a problem with him —any problem— you can go to me; even if I don’t particularly look forward to that and would rather do something else, I will talk to him.”

She did not seem to be entirely convinced, but at least she was not that irritated anymore.

“I just want things to go well, for both of your sake. He is not used to a woman being around, you know. ”

“What is _that_ even supposed to mean?”

Well, less annoyed meant still annoyed.

Her frown gave way to astonishment. “Are you…,” she began hesitantly before lowering her voice. “Is this you trying to tell me that he prefers…company of another kind?”

The thought had never occurred to her before. That could explain why he was so aloof with her, and why he had been single for such a long time which was quite odd. He could love whom he wanted, the problem was not there; she just did not want them to be stuck with each other for the rest of their life and long for someone else knowing that it will be impossible for them to be with that person. She would rather get divorced than making him miserable, or be miserable for that matter.

Kelsier burst out laughing, attracting several questioning looks. Her face took the same color than Vin’s dress at the ball given by Elend. She abruptly let go of his arm and walked rapidly. She should have never accepted his invitation.

She should have waited to go with Marsh instead! He was not very talkative but at least he did not mock her.

“Do you even know where you are going or where you are?” he called after her as his laughter subdued.

She suddenly realized that she had indeed no idea. The nerve of that man!

Determined to give him a piece of her mind, she swiftly turned around…and almost bumped into him. He gently took her hand.

“Please, excuse me.”

“I’m happy that you find me entertaining,” she replied dryly.

“Don’t take it personally. I was just imagining the face he would have made if he had heard you. I simply meant that relationships are not his strong suit, and as you know he has never been married until a few days ago. So, if he seems to be distant with you, this is because he does not really know how to be with someone. And I can assure you that he likes women.”

She searched his face. He seemed sincere. “Fine, I accept your apologies.”

He presented her his arm, which she took although not without a moment of hesitation.

“How is your wife?”

“That depends of what you believe in. Most would say that she is in a better place now, I suppose.”

She sharply turned to him. He was still smiling, but there was sorrow in his gaze.

“I—I’m sorry, I did not meant to—”

“Your way to get revenge is quite cruel,” he observed.

“No!” she cried. “I—I remarked that you’re still wearing your wedding band, so I just assumed that your wife was not there because she was in another dominance, taking care of her health or something like that. I’ve read that salty air is good to recover strength. I would never—”

He raised a hand. “Calm down, I was just teasing you,” he said with a more genuine, although sad, smile. “You couldn’t know.”

“I should have,” she continued nevertheless, too embarrassed to be irritated at him for making fun of her for the second time. “After all, my father is divorced and he is still wearing his ring.”

“Your parents are divorced?”

“Yes. He loved her so much. He still does. Actually, I don’t think that he will be able to love again.”

“I hope you’re wrong.”

“Oh, I…I’m not saying that you should stay alone your whole life. But that will always be different, I think.”

He smiled inwardly. Marsh, if only you could hear! You would learn one thing or two.

“I think that when you loved that deeply, you can’t love someone else equally, the same way,” she continued.

“First love and all of that, eh?”

“Something like that. If I may…what was her name?”

“Mare. Her name was Mare.”

“And…is Vin your daughter?”

“No, I didn’t want children. I adopted her. They are a bit alike, though. They both have black hair and eyes, as well as pale skin.”

He accompanied her all the way to the house while she apologized again, and they wished each other a good evening.

After such an afternoon, the quiet atmosphere of the meal she shared with her husband felt strange, as if she was actually dreaming. Marsh soon retreated to his room, and despite having walked nearly the entire day, the young Terriswoman did not follow his example but turned her attention to the library. Remembering the book that caught her attention but did not have the opportunity to skim through, she examined the shelves, a triumphant smile gracing her lips as she found what she was looking for. She opened it at a random and was unexpectedly met with dried plants and flowers, whose properties were indicated in an elegant penmanship.

“What are you doing?”

Forge startled violently, and the book slipped out of her hands. In one swift movement, Marsh picked it up. When he straightened, she saw that he looked short from furious.

“I-I’m sorry. I did not mean to…you surprised me and I…” she stuttered before falling silent under his steely stare.

“Don’t touch this book again. Never.”

She nodded stiffly, a bit ashamed that she might have damaged something that was obviously so dear to him.

“I didn’t know that you were interested in plants,” she blurted out.

He did not respond and left her abruptly after a last glare. Well, maybe it was the time for her to go to bed as well. 

She was twisting and turning, wondering for the umpteenth time what the book could possibly mean to Marsh and why he reacted so strongly, when she heard screams.

She froze. Maybe she had heard wrong?

However, she was proved the contrary when she heard them again. And they came from her husband’s bedroom. Seconds later, she was barging into his room, source of light and long hairpin in hands, ready to strike.

“Are you alright?”

She had prepared for an attacker, not the sight in front of her.

Marsh was breathing heavily, the sheets twisted around him, his skin glistening under the dim light, his eyes wide and unfocused. Forge slowly lowered her arms, and moved toward him. This was at this moment that he appeared to finally register her presence.

“What are you doing here?”

His tone was disapproving. Her brow furrowed. “I heard screams. I thought you needed help, and—”

“Get out.”

“What?”

“Get out!” he all but shouted at her.

Taken aback by his outburst, she did not retort anything and promptly obeyed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Petunia: resentment; anger.


	6. Acacia

No sound was breaking the heavy silence reigning in the living-room, except for that of the cutlery.

Marsh studied the face of the woman across from him—the slight, downward turn of her mouth, the furrow of her brow, and her eyes that refused to meet his although for an entire different reason than during their first encounter. His lips pressed into a thin line. Shouting at her like he did the previous night had been a mistake, a momentarily lack of control. He still found it hard to believe that he did; that was so unlike him. He snorted inwardly. He could see his friend gently chiding him, telling him that that was bound to happen. When you take all of your pain and put it inside a box, lock that box and bury it deep, deep, into your heart and throw away the keys, the day you find the keys—because you will, inevitably, even if you do not want to—then, you will remember that box you buried deep, deep, into your heart and that pain, only ten times stronger. There was little interrogation as to what he had to do.

They cleared the table and he dried the dishes as she washed them, taking the absence of rejection as a good sign.

“Wait…” he said softly when she readied herself to withdraw for the night. “Please.”

She turned around. In her dark brown eyes, reluctance was fighting expectation.

“I… apologize for last night. I should not have shouted at you; it was wrong.”

“Indeed, you should not have.”

Her tone was even, but there was an edge to it that made him suddenly more watchful. And indeed, without a warning, like a cloudy sky releasing a downpour, her calm façade crumbled.

“I was just trying to help you and you treated me like I was the most undesirable presence in this world! Why did you even marry me if you don’t want to have a wife?” she demanded before adding mockingly. “Oh, yes, I remember; that was all for money!”

At that, he stiffened. How did she dare talk to him like that when he was apologizing?

“You did the same exactly for the same reason,” he coldly observed.

She let out a humorless laugh. “If money was what I wanted, I would have married someone else.”

“My brother, maybe?”

A part of him, the part that was hurting, rejoiced at her widening eyes and the panic that flickered across her features.

“Yes, I noticed how you reacted to him. How your smile faltered when you noticed me. You couldn’t even look at me,” he continued, advancing toward her. They were almost of the same height, but he was aware of the effect of his stare on people.

She did not respond, too dazed to utter anything.

“I’m sorry you married the wrong brother.”

And with that, he stormed out of the room and into his quarters.

What a great idea it had been! Marsh thought with bitterness as he got rid of his jacket in abrupt movements.

He had held out the olive branch and that woman had all but threw it to the ground and trampled it, before spitting to his face.

May Ruin take her, and her father with his offer he should have never accepted!

He plopped down on the edge of the bed, head between his hands, concentrating on his breathing in an attempt to calm down. Eventually, his eyes darted to the drawer of the nightstand. He reached out and, trembling, opened the leather-bound book devoid of title.

 

He crosses the street and heads to the apothecary shop, list neatly folded in the pocket of his coat. There is no one behind the counter when he enters, but he hears rummaging from the backroom and they are certainly aware of his arrival thanks to the doorbell. His gaze examines the bottles lined up on the shelves occupying the entire wall, filled with plants or powders of various colors, shapes and textures. After several minutes, someone appears.

“Good morning. I’m sorry for the wait; how can I help you?”

He has always had an excellent memory, but at that precise moment he is more than grateful he took the precaution to write everything down, because his mind has gone blank. However, that list will be of little help to him if he does not recover his speaking abilities which have also strangely deserted him. So, in the meantime, he just stares.

The young woman with a heart-shaped face and dark, alert eyes offers him a smile. “Is it for you or for someone else?”

No response.

“How about you describe the symptoms, and then we will work from there?” she keeps on, far from being unnerved.

Then, his body remembers how to form words.

“No, that won’t be necessary.” Later, when he goes back home and recalls their exchange, he will wince at the thought of how cold and gruff she might have found him.

Following his indications, she gives him everything he needs, he hands her the money with sweaty palms, and after a curt nod, leaves. Once outside, he releases a shaky breath echoed by his scarred, older self, sitting alone in a bedroom.

Marsh closed the book and held it against his heart.

 

* * *

 

When Sazed opened his door this morning, he did not expect to be met with Vedlew’s daughter, and not in such a foul mood.

“We need to talk,” she stated without preamble.

The Terrisman gave her a contrite look. “I’m sorry, I have lessons to give.”

“I’m sure Vin will understand.”

“It’s…it’s not for her. And I cannot cancel them on such a short notice.”

The frown deepened. Obviously, this was not the answer she wanted to hear.

“If this is not a pressing matter, maybe you could tell me what is upsetting you over a meal?” he offered.

She gritted her teeth so hard that he feared they shattered. “Fine. I will come back for lunch.”

This was not without trepidation that Sazed sat down at the table a few hours later. Judging from the inflexion of her voice earlier something had occurred, and as she spoke he started to have a better idea as to what this was all about.

“I want you to tell me everything I need to know about Marsh.”

Worry blossomed in the teacher’s heart. “What happened?”

“I came to his room during the night and he kicked me out, shouting at me. That’s what happened,” she said before realizing how that might be interpreted. “I heard screams, so I came to see if I could be of any help and he shouted at me to get out,” she elaborated, waving a hand impatiently. “And since he will not talk to me and I don’t want to see him anyway, I came to you.”

“I advised him to warn you about that,” he sighed.

“Well, obviously he listens to his friend,” she scoffed. “I don’t understand; there is no shame in having nightmares. Why did he not tell me anything?”

Really, why he reacted like that was beyond her comprehension. Was it because he loathed her seeing him vulnerable? She hardly knew him, but he did not strike her as proud.

“It’s more complicated than that, I think…”

“Are they connected to his wounds?” “Indeed,” he nodded.

“What happened to him, exactly?”

“There was a fire at the steel mill, a little over a month ago,” he explained. “Marsh made sure that all the workers were safe but—”

He paused. She raised her eyebrows, expectant. “I’m sorry, but this is not my story to tell, I think.”

“I just want to help him!” she cried in frustration. “But how am I supposed to do that if no one is willing to tell me anything?”

The Terrisman took in her eyes shining with anger, the lines that betrayed a lack of sleep, and the strands of brown, curly hair that had come loose of her bun which she had not bothered to fix. She was apparently sincere. He hoped that his friend would forgive him and understand that he did it for his well-being.

“As Marsh was about to leave, a part of the building collapsed,” he continued. “He was trapped inside. His body and face were burnt and his leg crushed, without mentioning the damage on his lungs, but that could have been far worse.”

Forge remained silent, processing the information. She knew that he suffered, but she had never thought to take into account the circumstances of his wounds. She could not begin to comprehend how that must have felt like, to be surrounded by flames, unable to move and with no means to escape. No wonder he was having nightmares.

“You said that you thought it was more complicated than that?”

“This steel mill is the work of his life, and he almost lost it. He is afraid that next time he might lose it for good, I think.”

“But with my father’s help and support, we could prevent that from happening. That’s precisely why he made him this offer of partnership.”

“He doesn’t see that yet, I think. Not all wounds are physical; the longest to heal usually aren’t,” he said kindly. “He just needs time. However, I am surprised that he lashed out at you in such a manner. Did anything happen before that?”

“I was just looking at some sort of herbarium he has.”

He froze, but fortunately she did not seem to notice anything. He cleared his throat.

“You should talk to him.”

“Rather apologize,” she grimaced. “We had an argument.”

A kind smile graced his lips. “Well, you know what you have to do.”

 

* * *

 

Marsh had not made three steps into the house that he was stopped by Forge, or rather cornered.

“I-I know that you must be absolutely furious after these awful things I said, I do realize that, believe me, and so I would not blame you if you don’t listen to me because it was my fault, but please, listen to me, I have something very important to tell you, and—”

He raised a hand. The flow immediately ran dry.

“Can I at least remove my coat?”

The young woman blinked, and then her body relaxed a little as his words sank in.

“Yes, of course. I’m sorry, I’ll let you…” she trailed off.

He watched as her hands reached out to grab the dark, thick fabric, then abruptly came to a halt before one shot up to scrap her neck and her heels turned in the direction of the living-room.

So this was what he had to expect when she was anxious and embarrassed. If he was not that angry, he might have been amused.

When he joined her several minutes later, she was pacing and muttering to herself.

“What did you want to tell me?”

Her head snapped up in his direction. She faced him, smoothing the creases of her dress.

“I would like to apologize for what I said yesterday. I was cruel and unfair to you. I mean, Father told me that you were in difficulties so I knew perfectly what your motivations were behind that marriage and it’s not as if someone forced me or threatened me. I agreed to become your wife.” She swallowed and averted her gaze. “I…I wanted to hurt you; I was so upset at the way you rejected me and so frustrated that you would not talk to me.”

There was a short pause, disturbed by her shaky intake as she regained composure. He had to admit, she had some courage.

“I understand how wrong I was. I only thought about myself; I’ve never considered how you might feel about the situation or taken into account your past and everything you’ve been through. I realize now that it is much harder for you than for me, and—”

“You’ve talked to Sazed.”

“Yes,” she confessed. “He told me about the nightmares and…what caused them. Please don’t go Ironeyes on him, I left him no choice; I said that I would not leave until I had answers.”

Ah, Sazed, always ready to help others.

“I’m truly sorry for the way I stared at you when we first met. People certainly do that often enough,” she added quietly, her eyes travelling over the burnt side of his face.

“Don’t,” he said a bit sharper than he intended. “I don’t want your pity.”

She flinched. “I’m sorry.”

“And stop apologizing. You’ve done that enough already.”

“What do I have the right to do, then?” she retorted, rolling her eyes, although he could tell it was in mock irritation.

“To answer my questions. You said that you did not marry me for money. Why, then?”

He had been surprised by her statement. Financial security was one of the first reasons for young, single women like her to seek a husband.

“Actually, yes, but indirectly. I have enough money and skill to be independent, but Father worried that that might not be enough and that I would be left with next to nothing if I had some difficulties. I told him this was ridiculous; he would not let himself be convinced. To be honest, I suspect he was also worried that I would spend my entire life alone, and so unhappy.”

That seemed all too familiar. “I can relate.”

“Your brother?”

“Who else apart from my brother?”

She nodded. “Sazed told me that _Luthadel Steel_ was the work of your life, but I admit that even so I have difficulties to understand why, when having no choice, you would refuse to sell that steel mill and force yourself into a marriage while not wanting a wife at all.”

“This steel mill belonged to my mother. I would not let it fall into a stranger’s hands if I can help it.”

Ah, that made much more sense, now.

“I’m not going to ask from you that you fall in love with me, just that you talk to me a bit more and that you let me help you, if that’s possible. I really would like us to try to be friends. I think that that would make this whole situation a lot easier for the both of us. And I don’t know about you, but I would rather like to know the person with whom I’m going to spend the rest of my life.”

“That seems reasonable enough.”

At this answer, she beamed and moved toward the table to pour two glasses of wine.

“To friendship,” she declared.

“To friendship,” he replied as their glasses clinked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Acacia: friendship


	7. Black poplar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for the kudos and for reading!

“Coming!” Forge cried as she heard someone knock on the door.

After they made up the previous night, Marsh told her that groceries were going to be delivered to them in the morning, and that he was used to leaving for work later in order to receive them. But now that there was someone home, he did not have to stay anymore and thus would be able to come back from the steel mill sooner, provided she agreed to replace him. She had then almost answered that he found her some utility, at last, before changing her mind; it was too soon for such jokes. Thus, she merely gave him a positive reply.

If she was not that astonished to see a man in his early twenties—though his rounded face and cheeks might make him appear younger than he was—the latter blinked at her sight. He had heard that Mr. Marsh was now married, but he would have never imagined that he was to a woman from Terris!

He glanced at her hands. No mistake, she was indeed his wife.

“Good morning, Mrs. Marsh,” he bowed his head once he recovered.

“Good morning,” she smiled. “You can leave the bags in the entrance; I will take care of them myself.”

They seemed quite heavy, and as vigorous he probably was, she hoped he did not come straight from the market. The latter was not at the other side of the city, but it must undoubtedly feel like it with such a charge. He gave her a swift glance of appraisal, frowning.

“I’m stronger than I look,” she assured.

“I always carry them to the kitchen.”

Forge bit back a smile and stepped aside. There was something in the seriousness of his tone and his posture that reminded her of her husband, and the fact that his blonde hair was cut very short only added to that impression. He did not have his gaze, however. Nor his straightforwardness.

Marsh would have bluntly stated that she would never be able to lift the bags.

Once his task was done, she gave him a few coins that had been put aside for him.

“Thank you, Mrs. Marsh.”

“It is me who should thank you, but you’re welcome. Aradan Yomen, correct?”

“Yes, Mrs. Marsh.”

“How long have you been working for my husband?” _Husband_. This word still felt foreign in her mouth.

“For a couple of months.”

“Since the accident or before that?”

His eyes narrowed a bit. Her smile tensed. “I don’t know much about the persons working for him, or what it is like to work with him for that matter. I’m just curious.”

From that moment, the delivery man no longer wondered why his employer did not marry the daughter of a lord from a minor house. A noblewoman would have never justified herself but rather used her status and the little power she had over him to demand that he answer her.

“I worked as an accountant at _Luthadel Steel_ , but after the fire my father forced me to resign,” he explained. “I obeyed, but abandoning Mr. Marsh at such a time did not sit well with me; he had been good to us. So, I managed to find another way to be helpful to him.”

And to express his thankfulness, she understood.

“And what are you doing now? I suppose you have another occupation?”

Yomen suddenly brightened at that, the stern line of his mouth easing into a large smile. “I’m studying to enter the Canton of Resource. I liked my former job, but I have always wanted to be at the service of His Majesty. This country would have never been what it is now if it was not for him. We would still be lagging behind on all fronts, not to mention the disorder left by his predecessor when it comes to organization! No, we are very lucky to have him, believe me.”

“I wish you good luck, then,” she said, amused by his sudden, enthusiastic behavior.

After realizing that she had been reading the same sentence for the past two minutes when her eyes were on the page and not darting in the direction of the stairs, Forge closed the book with a defeated sigh. She felt uncomfortable at being quietly seated in the living room while Beldre, a young woman with coppery hair who lived a few streets away, was changing the bed sheets and taking the linen that had to be cleaned.

_Her_ bed sheets and _her_ linen.

You can’t do her work; you would rob her of her chance to earn money and to be independent, she reminded herself for the umpteenth time, her fingers clenching. That’s not what you want, is it?

Still, despite all her reasoning, the uneasiness remained there and it took everything she had in her to not get up and assist the young woman.

Forge was sure of one thing, then. She was in desperate need for work.

Thus, at the beginning of the afternoon, she set off for the heart of the district, recalling the addresses Sazed gave her when they discussed about the trades that could suit her. There were not that many textile manufactures in the vicinity, but she was ready to walk an hour everyday to go to work if she had to. Unfortunately for her, none of the employers listed could hire anyone at the moment, either because they were not looking for people or because they were facing difficulties. A bit discouraged, the young woman was on her way home when she noticed a building she had not been to. Her lips stretched into a triumphant smile.

She was ushered in the office of a man of a willowy figure and with something in his expression she disliked at once—although she would have been unable to explain why—and fought the sudden urge to turn heels.

“What do you want?” he grunted in a nasal voice.

“Good afternoon,” she answered, standing a bit awkwardly as he did not invite her to take a seat. “I would like to apply for a position. I’ve learned weaving when I was little, and—”

“The positions are all taken.”

She remained silent for a moment, taken off guard. “But the man who brought me here told me that you were hiring.”

“Yes, I am. And the positions are all taken.”

Her brow furrowed. What was the meaning of this? He could not be excluding her because she was a woman; she was applying for a woman’s work.

Then it dawned on her. This was in his blatant disregard for politeness, in the way he stared at her skin and some of her features, or cringed when she spoke. No wonder her friend did not give her this address.

Forge immediately straightened, chin up. “I wish you a good evening, sir.”

The man did not even bother to reply, and she promised herself to never come back there.

 

* * *

 

“Can I borrow your cane? I have someone to hit.”

Marsh sharply turned around, and his eyes landed on a dark-skinned woman walking a few steps behind him. He came to a halt.

“Forge?” he said, surprise showing in his tone. “What are you doing here?”

“I was looking for work,” she replied.

He should have expected that; it must be confusing for her to find herself with time to spare when before she had to get up very early to take care of her herd, and was busy till the evening. Her hand found the crook of his arm, startling him, but she did not seem to remark his reaction, too caught up in her thoughts. Judging from that and her scowl, her search had not gone well.

“What’s wrong?”

“The fact that I’m from Terris, apparently. At least, for the last employer I met.”

“You went to the manufacture,” he figured out. “He’s known for his dislike of the Terris people and for hiring people that come only from Luthadel. That’s why Sazed did not tell you about it. You should trust him more.”

“Well, thank you for the advice,” she retorted, glaring at him.

“What about the others?”

“They did not have any problem with that, but they could not hire anyone.”

He watched her carefully. “You told them that I was your husband?”

“No,” she replied with hesitation.

“Good; I would be disappointed if you did.”

They both remained silent until they arrived home. He opened the door, and looking at Forge above his shoulder, he noticed that she was still annoyed by her encounter.

“Don’t let that get to you, otherwise they’ve won.”

Marsh turned his head as he entered, missing her wide eyes and softening expression.

 

Determined on following the solicitous advice of her husband, Forge focused her thoughts on the supper that was to be given by Breeze and Allrianne. She was told that they did so at every end of the week, gathering their close friends who would otherwise never see each other. That was must be indeed difficult for them to spend time together considering that they all came from different classes, but this was something that the young woman greatly appreciated about the group of friends—they did not let things such as money or birth stand between them.

She then recalled Kelsier’s behavior toward Elend.

Well, not _entirely_.

However, that seemed to be a Kelsier problem because from what she had been able to observe, there was no tension between Marsh and the young nobleman.

The dress she had chosen was pale green with dark pine, leaf-shaped needlework that was arranged from the collar down to the waist in such skillful a way, that it gave the impression she was wearing a bodice when there was actually none. She had felt comfortable enough to not wear sleeves, something she could not do in other circumstances for she was aware that her well-toned arms, combined with her tall figure, would not be considered feminine. As for her hair, she gathered them in her usual bun but let down a few strands to frame her face. She walked down the stairs, satisfied, and almost tripped when she caught sight of Marsh.

Not because he was dashing, clad in a freshly cleaned and elegant suit, but rather because he was reading and had yet to change. And probably to bathe too.

“What are you doing?” she exclaimed, alarmed, causing him to look up. “The coach arrives in thirty minutes!”

“I lost track of time,” he explained weakly, snapping the book shut.

“Do you know what you’re going to wear?”

He gave her a pointed look. A shirt, pants, underwear and socks, I suppose?

“You know what I mean!” she sighed in irritation. “Go get your clothing; I’ll put water over the fire.”

She was striding toward the kitchen, when he grabbed her arm. A part of her registered the roughness and calluses of his hands, and wondered how she could not have remarked them when they exchanged rings. She paused, her eyes meeting his. He abruptly let go of her.

“No, I will. And I will also take care of my clothing while the water is warming up.”

“Fine, but don’t take too long,” she replied then added. “Please.”

Marsh joined her in the entrance and she scowled, but it had nothing to do with him arriving just as the horses were drawing near. Obviously, the only shade he knew apart from black was a gray that was so dark it appeared black. She would not even be shocked if he revealed he was secretly working as a Steel Inquisitor, or found such attire in his closet.

“What?” he asked as she kept glowering at the fabric as if the latter had personally offended her.

“Nothing,” she grumbled while mentally noting to pay a visit to Allrianne’s friend.

 

* * *

 

The keep of House Ladrian was much smaller than that of Elend’s family, but displayed the same tall, glass windows and the same architectural elements that made the building look as light as a breath despite the imposing stonework.

“Welcome!” Allrianne greeted, kissing Forge on both cheeks and then Marsh under the stupefied expression of the Terriswoman, who did not know what stunned her more—that she kissed him without blinking, or that he let her kiss him. Granted, it was more of a peck than a kiss, but still!

“We didn’t expect you so early. I take we have to thank Forge for that,” Breeze said, raising his wineglass to her. He was dressed in dark clothes except for a purple waistcoat, complimenting the orchid-colored gown of his wife.

“I thought only Kelsier was late?” she replied, barely registering his brother leaving them to join Sazed.

“No, on that account they are very much alike.”

“Except that Kelsier enjoys the theatrics.”

Turning in the direction of the voice, they noticed a man standing a few steps away from them. Although not as muscular as Ham, he was well-built, his fair skin contrasting with his dark hair and half-beard. Lines marked the corner of his eyes.

“I can’t argue with you on that. You’re the one who knows him best.”

“You're Dockson, right?” Forge said.

He bowed in response.

“I heard that you had unparalleled organization skills?”

Kelsier’s friend then proceeded to explain what his work consisted in while she listened attentively.

“Sazed”

“Marsh. How are you doing?”

“I believe you are able to answer that question yourself,” he replied, staring at him.

The Terrisman smiled, a bit embarrassed. “You’re indeed right. However, I do not know with certainty if she gathered the courage to make amends.”

“She did. We cleared some things up.”

“It’s best if you cleared _everything_ up, I think.”

At that, his jaw clenched.

“I know it’s difficult for you…but I must warn you that you may not have that much time left to prepare yourself,” he said softly, concerned.

“For her it was just a book. She is not aware of who she was.”

Sazed sighed internally. That man could be quite stubborn when he wanted. “Regardless, keep that in mind, please.”

The argument between Breeze and Ham about whether it would be right or not to start eating without Kelsier who was their friend was interrupted by the arrival of the later.

“Took you long enough,” Dockson said before adding less playfully. “I don’t know how much longer I would be able to endure their senseless chatting they call philosophical conversation.”

“I’ve arrived just on time, then,” he grinned. “Although I don’t think that my dear brother arrived that early.”

“You would be surprised.”

“What? Miracles are possible, then!” he said, eyes sparkling.

Marsh was absolutely not amused.

“What did you do, Forge?”

“Interrupted his reading.”

“That reminds me of someone else,” Vin remarked dryly.

Elend winced, scrapping the nape of his neck. “You’re still angry at me for missing that ball, aren’t you?”

“You promised me to come, and your excuse the following day was that you were so engrossed in your reading that you completely forgot!”

“There was an exciting book involved,” he replied as if that explained everything, which clearly was the case for him. “Besides, I believe I made up for that.”

“Luckily for you,” she commented. There was, however, no heat but softness in her dark eyes as she let him guide her to the dining table.

“So, how are you?” Kelsier asked them.

“Fine until a few minutes ago,” Forge scowled.

“I see that Elend is not the only one who has to make up for something,” he smiled.

“You mocked me! Twice!” she huffed.

“I was only teasing you. But please, tell me; how can I be forgiven?”

“I’m afraid you’re quite hopeless. I wonder how Marsh put up with you all those years.”

“Yeah, I think he should be given a prize. What do you say, brother?”

“Everyone is waiting for us,” Marsh replied abruptly.

When Forge left Allrianne and Breeze’s house, her spirits were much higher than a few hours before. The evening had gone smoothly—or as smoothly as it could go with such joyful and sometimes rowdy people like Kelsier’s friends— and had been very pleasant.

“What happened between you and Kelsier?”

The young woman’s foot froze, and then rested on the step. She turned to face him, brows furrowed.

“Nothing. As he said, he just teased me when he showed me the city.”

His expression told her that her answer was not satisfying. About what, exactly?

Sighing lightly, she walked down the stairs. “He said something that annoyed me, so I left him and walked away but then he brought to my attention the fact that I did not even know where I was heading.”

“You said that he did so twice,” he remarked, relentless.

At that point, she was almost convinced that he was a Steel Inquisitor.

This was going to be so embarrassing.

She cleared her throat. “The first time, it was because I misunderstood him when he said you were not…used to a woman being around.”

His jaw clenched. Painfully.

“There! That’s exactly why I did not want to tell you anything in the first place,” she exclaimed. “You’re giving me that stare that could make steel curl!”

“Sorry, you’re not the one to be blamed.”

“I didn’t like that he was fishing for information about us and particularly about you, which I told him, but he also stated that he was doing this out of concern for us.”

“And what do you think?” he asked, observing her.

“I don’t really know,” she admitted. “He sounded sincere, but I also had the feeling that he was hiding something important.”

Marsh did not say anything. Sazed was probably right; he might not have much time left before she discovers the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Black poplar: courage.


	8. Agrimony

“Why are you cooking at such an hour?”

Forge startled violently. Dressed in a simple shirt and pants, Marsh was standing a few steps away from her, the gray of his eye still clouded by sleep. She had been so focused on stirring the food over the fire that she had not heard him approach.

“Did…did I wake you up?” she inquired instead, creases marking her brow.

“I’m not a heavy sleeper.”

She nodded in understanding. That was to be expected with his nightmares.

“I’m sorry; I realized that I didn’t cook last night, so there are no leftovers, nothing you can bring with you for lunch.”

“Forge—”

“And I know that you would rather avoid restaurants since service takes time.”

_And people would stare at you_ , she added for herself.

“Forge, I don’t—”

“I’m sorry, I really should have anticipated, and—”

“Forge,” he said more forcefully.

Her eyes widened, and then met his. “Yes?” she replied in a small voice, for he seemed a bit annoyed.

“I don’t work today. Actually, almost nobody work today; it’s the last day of the week.”

Oh. _Oh_. “I’m such an idiot! I completely forgot! And I woke you up very early on the only day you could get some decent sleep!”

The young woman froze as he was suddenly close to her, hand above hers on the spoon and the other circling her wrist.

What—

“Calm down, you’re putting food everywhere,” he said matter-of-factly before directing his attention toward the pan. “And I think that’s burning.”

Marsh released her, and muttering under her breath, she hurriedly put the pan out of the fire and aside to let the food cool down.

“That’s your fault, you distracted me!”

Unlike him, however, her glare was ineffective.

“What are you preparing?”

“Baywraps,” she answered as she grabbed a bowl for the next step. A heavy silence followed, and uncertainty seized her at the expression that flickered across his features. Her hand, which was halfway from the whisk, paused.

“Is something wrong? I can do something else if you don’t like them.”

“No, that’s not it,” he said softly. “It’s just…Mother used to cook this meal for Kelsier and I when we were children, even if we had someone who could do that for her…It’s been a long time since I last eat such a meal.”

_And I nearly burned everything!_ she thought with utter embarrassment.

As he snapped out of his memories, his gaze focused back on her. “If what I remember is correct, now you’re going to make the wrappers?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me what to do,” he stated, rolling up his sleeves.

She blinked. Once. Twice. The clouds gave way to steel.

“You did not truly believe that I was going to have breakfast while you did everything, did you?”

“I thought…that maybe you would try to get some sleep?” she explained before quickly adding. “Not that I don’t want you here.”

“That’s useless, now. I will never be able to go back to sleep.” He then noticed that she was lightly biting her lips, her gaze downcast. “Not that I’m blaming you.”

Her face brightened immediately.

“Thank you for helping me, then! Everything is ready, you only have to whisk. The batter should be smooth and thin, so if it’s too thick, you simply add water.”

Marsh followed her instructions and, in the meantime, she assessed the damage caused by her moment of distraction. Fortunately, the vegetable slices were not completely roasted. She just hoped he would not mind them a bit crispy.

“I think that looks alright,” he tells her after some minutes, stirring the batter so she could see if it was good or not.

“Perfect! Now…” She scooped some of the preparation and put it into the pan before rotating the latter. Within a few seconds, the rounded shape became darker and slightly golden at the edges. Satisfied, she retrieved the wrapper which she saved for later, and then handed him everything.

“Your turn,” she beamed.

Focusing, Marsh reproduced her gestures and almost forgot to retrieve the wrapper as he caught her smiling.

“What?”

“Nice rotation of the wrist. Do you know how to form the rolls?”

“I think I’ll be able to manage,” he replies, slightly mocking.

Forge put her hands on her hips, an eyebrow arched. “Oh. You know that they must be sealed with paste, then?”

At his lack of reply, she shook her head, amused. They placed one wrapper in their plates, and the rest between them.

“Put the food on one side, not too much otherwise that would be overstuffed. Now, rolls gently but tightly.”

She was almost finished with hers when there suddenly was a displeased noise. The wrapper on her right was not quite in one piece anymore.

“Your wrapper must have been a bit too thick; that happens sometimes,” she said. “But for a first time, you’re doing well!”

Marsh grunted in reply. Obviously, well was not enough for him.

“You want to make the wrappers or form the rolls?” the young woman asked after showing how the rolls had to be sealed to prevent food from spilling.

“The wrappers.” His tone showed nothing but determination.

“Can’t wait for round two,” Forge teased, a smile stretching her lips.

Once the rolls were formed—and none of them were cracked, mind you—the couple cleaned up and sat down to have breakfast. If they were not completely comfortable around each other, they no longer spent meals in a silence only broken when they needed some dishes to be handed over or such.

Forge withdrew to her quarters to respond to her father’s letter, which she had received the previous day. The Terrisman had not her husband’s frankness, but she was perfectly able to perceive the question he did not dare asking; namely if everything was going as well between them as things were going for his trade since Kelsier’s brother and he agreed on being partners. Well, regarding the circumstances of their marriage, she had actually nothing to complain about. He was not condescending or horrible to her, thanks Harmony he did not beat her, and contrary to what his severe appearance might lead to believe, she could do what she liked as long as she did not permanently damage his reputation or that of his friends. The recollection of what she said to Elend upon their encounter still made her wince.

No, this was not a complete disaster. They were just…not in love, infatuated, or even attracted to each other in the slightest. And although Marsh stated that he would fulfill his duties, he had yet to touch her. Not that she was looking forward to that, if she was honest with herself. Because then he would find out that, that—

She forced herself to think about something else, knowing all too well that if she walked down that path she would be left with nothing but the salty taste of sadness in her mouth, and began writing. When she went to the living-room with the intent to resume her reading on the city, the Terriswoman noticed that an entire shelf had been emptied. Her brow furrowed.

“I realized that you might have some books you would like to put in there.”

She pivoted in the direction of Marsh who was sitting in one of the chairs, a thick book opened on his knees. “This library is not mine; it’s ours.”

Touched by his gesture, she gave him a smile. This was definitely not a complete disaster.

“Thank you.”

The steelmaker nodded and returned to his page. However, a few minutes later, his focus was disturbed by the repetitive sound of books being pulled out and placed elsewhere. His eyes snapped up. He was right; Forge was rearranging the books, pacing here and there as she found what she was looking for, obviously ignoring the space he had made for her. The young woman seemed to sense him staring at her, because she eventually turned around. Her scraping of the nape of her neck also told him that his stare was maybe a tad reproachful.

“I, hum…I thought you would appreciate that the books were sorted alphabetically, and not…you know, mine being in the middle of the others…”

No sound got past his lips. He would have been vexed if her decision did not demonstrate that she had picked on the fact that he liked being organized and thus having an orderly environment, although his brother had told him many times that this was pretty obvious to anyone who knew him or simply entered his home. He had certainly not expected that.

“Thank you…” he said, finally recovering his vocal functions. She smiled and, book in hand, settled on the chair next to him.

 

* * *

 

“I was wondering if I could go with you to the steel mill.”

Marsh looked up from the bowl of gruel in front of him. Hesitation and curiosity were dancing in the young woman’s brown irises.

“I know that this is sudden…but I would like to see where you work. To see what you do exactly as a living,” she explained.

“Why?”

He cringed internally at his tone, which was sharper than he intended. Her inquiry had caught him completely off guard; she had never expressed any interest in his activities before, and the thought that she would like to visit the place that is the very reason why she is stuck with him had never crossed his mind. Why doing such a thing?

“I want to know you, and this is a part of who you are, so…”

Ah. Her reasoning was quite sound.

Forge’s eyes widened as something occurred to her, and then trailed to the side of his face. The one that was never agreeable to look at.

“I-I did not mean that…” she swallowed nervously.

“Stop tiptoeing like that, it’s exhausting,” he sighed in irritation. “As I said, I don’t want your pity. The same won’t happen to you during your visit, however; I always arrive before the workers. But I will ask you to stay by my side.”

A shy smile tugged at her lips as she realized that he was accepting her request. “Thank you. Do I have to wear something in particular?”

“No, stay in your dress. This is not practical at all, but people are not used to women wearing pants.”

When they left their home, Marsh noticed with surprisethat the Terriswoman seemed to force herself not to hasten the pace and pull on his arm. Her enthusiastic demeanor dulled a bit, however, after they passed the gates and that she remarked the darker parts still lightly etched on the ground. Nevertheless, she quickly regained her composure, maybe remembering that he told her not to pity him, and turned her gaze filled with curiosity toward the sort of intricate, metallic tower that was coming into view.

“What you see is a blast furnace,” the blond-haired man informed her. “Your father being a blacksmith, you must know that steel is produced from iron ores. The ones I, and actually everyone else, use come from the mines exploited by the Venture family. The iron ores are smelted in the blast furnace to obtain what is called ‘pig iron’ which is then used for making steel.”

He stopped near a container filled with small, irregular, dark shapes and took one before putting it in her palm. “This is ‘pig iron.’ These pieces are brittle and very rich in carbon, which is later removed along with other impurities in the steel process.”

“So, you transform the iron ores here and then you transport the product to the mill in order to make steel?”

“Yes. My… _father_ ,” the word was pronounced though gritted teeth, “built the blast furnace nearby to spare time and money. Follow me.”

She put the ingot back and fell into steps beside him. Despite his best efforts, Marsh could not help coming briefly to a halt in front of the building, and after a discrete but deep breath, he entered. A gasp echoed in the air next to him. Indeed, the interior must be quite a sight for her—metal and machinery everywhere, no real windows to speak of…This was very different from the pure air and flowering meadows she was used to.

“What is this? I’ve never seen something like this before!” she exclaimed, pointing at the huge, cylindrical container supported by two bent arcs on each side. With the opening on the top, it looked like a creature gaping at them, arms firmly planted in the ground.

_The object of my nightmares._

“A converter.”

“This is what turns that ‘pig iron’ into steel?” He nodded. “You see those tubes at the base? They are called ‘tuyères.’ Air is blown through the molten pig iron which causes oxidation; a very important step in removing impurities. Once the process is over, the amount of steel created is poured into ladles and then moulds.”

“Why is there an opening on the top?”

“The conversion provokes reactions, and thus a flame that blows out through that opening. The color and aspect of that flame are very good indicators on the progress of oxidation; a whitish blue at the beginning, then a bright white, and finally it is accompanied by reddish smokes.”

When carbon burnt, it provoked a violent reaction and the flame grew much bigger, but she did not need to know that. Not when she was already glancing at him with worry, no doubt wondering if it was that flame that disfigured him. Suspicion seized him. She did not ask to come here to determine the cause of the accident, did she?

“I wish I could see your men at work,” she sighed as they exited. The workers would come at any moment, now.

The line of his mouth hardened. There was no way he was letting her get close to the building in activity. She seemed to figure out his thoughts, because she said:

“I know, I know, no need to give me that stare; that will never happen because it is too dangerous for me.” She looked back at the building. “It’s a shame, though. That would be such an interesting and beautiful thing to see.”

“A beautiful thing to see?” he almost choked.

Forge stopped walking and faced him.

“Yes. I think that the spectacle of hot, glowing steel being poured and then shaped, of the flames changing color, must be striking. And then there is what you do. Don’t you think that there is something beautiful, remarkable, in transforming something from the earth into steel, which is completely different? To make something that is almost fragile as hard as diamond, and unaltered by the passing of the years?”

Marsh did not know what to say. He was used to people being indifferent to his work or, in the rare occasions they did not, to them considering it in terms of productivity, quantity or economy. But someone who talked about his work as a kind of…poetic or artistic prowess?

“I have to go,” he said abruptly. “I see you in the evening.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Agrimony: Gratitude.


	9. Snowdrop

A broad smile on her face, Forge took in the ochre-colored cliffs that stood before them. Houses had been carved in the latter, their shape following that of the rock formations naturally protecting the city.

She was finally seeing Fadrex!

A part of her still had difficulties to believe that she was truly there, in the Western Dominance. Maybe she was still in her house in the Industrial District of Luthadel, in her bed, dreaming?

“This is even more gorgeous and impressive than what I imagined!” she exclaimed as she did not wait for someone to open the door of the coach but stepped outside. “Thank you so much for allowing me to come!”

Turning toward her husband, Forge noticed his clenched jaw and his hand that was tightly gripping for purchase as he was getting out with movements slower than usual. Her smile fell and her hand flew to his arm.

“I’m fine,” Marsh assured, dismissive.

“I can see that,” she mocked, the corners of her mouth pulled downward. “It’s your leg, isn’t it?”

“Long journeys do not agree will with me,” he grimaced.

“You need a hot bath to relax your muscles,” she hummed. “And I think I will take one as well; my body is hurting so much I don’t feel it anymore. So, I can’t imagine what that might be like for you.”

“You make that sound as if I was decrepit,” Marsh remarked, his gaze hardening.

“You know, objectively she’s younger than you,” said Breeze upon joining them, Allrianne on his arm.

Marsh's brow creased. He was starting to regret his decision.

A few days ago, he had received a letter from one of his acquaintances. Terion  lived in the country and was working on a way to improve the steel-making process. He claimed that he might have found a solution and asked for Marsh's assistance, knowing his skills. After much convincing on Forge's part, Marsh had agreed to come and invited her, remembering from their first encounter that she had always wanted to see this country.

She had been so ecstatic that she had hugged him.

Shortly afterwards, Allrianne, who eventually heard about their intention to travel to her home, decided to accompany them and arranged everything before they even had the slightest chance to protest or to decline. There was no telling her otherwise when she wanted to do something, her husband had told them. A hurricane dressed in pink and laden with ribbons might make people smile and appear harmless, a hurricane was still a hurricane.

“What should I say about you, then?” Forge quipped but without heat.

The eyes of the nobleman widened.

“You had that coming, darling,” Allrianne said, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Now, we should go; my father is awaiting us.”

Putting her hand on Marsh's arm, Forge was about to follow suit when she was gently pulled to a halt.

“I have to warn you, her father enjoys throwing people off, especially new acquaintances,” Marsh murmured. “Do not take what he says personally, and do not provoke him.”

“Thank you, I will keep that in mind.”

The small party was greeted at the entrance of the palace by a blonde, curly-haired lad looking strikingly like his sister and whose presence Forge was grateful for, because she did not think she would not have taken the governor for a servant otherwise. Unlike what she expected—he was from the nobility, after all—the father of their friend wore plain clothes and seemed to share Elend’s dislike for combing, only in worse since he was bearded. Also, apparently nobody had deemed important telling her that he was in a wheelchair.

“This is my father, Governor Ashweather Cett, and my little brother Gneorndin,” Allrianne said. “Father, brother, this is Marsh and his wife, Forge.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Forge curtsied while her husband bowed.

“I was not aware taking a much younger wife was actually a trend in your country. Or an imported one, for that matter. You know you two look absolutely ridiculous together, right, crippled friend?”

Forge's nails dug into Marsh's arm.

“That could have been worse; I’m not short,” she retorted. “Besides, I will have you know, Governor Cett, that I’m not that younger.”

At this remark, Marsh realized that her precise age was not known to him. He had always assumed that ten years separated them, which for him was already too much and indeed, as their host had so kindly pointed out, added to the ridicule of their situation—a crippled, almost middle age man with a younger and unblemished woman.

Cett's dark eyes scrutinized her, and then he let out a booming laugh.

“I like this one; keep her,” he said to Marsh before glaring at his daughter’s husband. “Too bad I can’t say so for everyone.”

 

* * *

 

The couple was going to have the pleasure of dining in the governor’s charming company, but before that they were given some time to settle down and to refresh themselves. Thus, they were shown to their quarters. And both froze upon seeing the bedroom.

There was nothing fundamentally wrong with the latter—it was spacious, comfortable, with a lot of cushions—except for the tiny detail that there was only one bed. But they were married, weren’t they?

They exchanged a nervous glance.

“Go change first, I will unpack our things,” Forge cleared her throat.

Marsh silently picked clean clothing, and disappeared in the adjacent room.

When it was time, they were escorted to the dining room by a servant, along with their friends. The governor was already present, as well as his son who was standing near the chair on his right.

“Sit here,” the nobleman ordered, motioning for the left seat.

Allrianne obeyed, her lips stretched into an amiable smile. Meaning to let Breeze be by her side, Forge moved across from her, but she had not made three steps that Ashweather interrupted her.

“No. Sit next to my daughter, and your husband in front of you.”

Realizing that this disposition left Breeze staring at an empty chair, Forge turned to Marsh, puzzled; she was certain that such a behavior was considered extremely rude, despite not knowing everything about receptions. Marsh silently told her to comply, which she did.

Once they were all seated, the meal consisting in rice and roasted chicken was served. Forge's fingers reached for the cutlery…and closed on air.

Her heart hammered in her chest. Could they have forgotten? Was she supposed to eat with her hands? But was that not contrary to table manners? She would be able to do that for the chicken, but how was she supposed to proceed with rice?

Suddenly, she felt a light pressure on her toes. Her eyes met others of different colors, gazing at her. Under her scrutiny, Marsh slowly took a piece of bread which he used to push some rice on the piece in his other hand. Her heart hammered for the second time, and Marsh almost choked on his wine at the grateful and beaming smile she gave him.

“How did the two of you come to be husband and wife?” Cett asked.

“I needed someone to salvage my company; she needed a husband,” Marsh replied bluntly, regaining countenance.

No need to hide the particulars from their friends, they perfectly knew that it was not love that bonded them.

“Ah, I see. I wish everyone could be as sensible as you. You’re in my country for business, right?”

And thus the two men started discussing trades, steel-making and such, sometimes joined by Gneorndin. Apart some occasional jibes directed at Breeze, the dinner went rather well until the servants arrived with what looked like slices of cakes. Forge examined the latter curiously, having never seen some so dark before, and could not help the exclamation that fell from her lips at the taste.

“Harmony, this is so good! What is this?”

Then she noticed the looks turned toward her, ranging from surprised to slightly mocking. Her face heated up. Marsh was certainly thinking that he should have left her at home, where she could not embarrass anyone and particularly not him.

“Uhm…sorry,” she apologized in a small voice.

“You’ve never had chocolate cake before?” Allrianne inquired.

“No. We don’t have _chocolate_ where in Terris.”

“Well, you know what to bring back to Luthadel, then,” Breeze said.

After thanking the governor for the invitation Marsh and Forge withdrew to their quarters, impatient to get some much needed rest, and they were once again confronted with the unprecedented situation of having to share the same space.

“I’ll change in the bathroom,” Marsh decided.

Forge nodded, waited for him to close the door, and started to undress. Once she was in her night gown, she removed the pins that hold her bun in place before deftly braiding her thick, brown hair. She slipped under the sheets and rolled on her side, turning away from the bathroom door.

“You can come in,” she called after taking a deep breath.

The muffled sound of Marsh's footsteps reached her ears, followed by the sensation of the mattress sinking under his weight as he joined her. She swallowed back the nervous laugh that was threatening to get out—ridiculous, really! Like she had not done that before!—and wished him goodnight instead.

Her sleep came to a sudden end when she was unceremoniously shoved.

Letting out a yelp of surprise, Forge felt herself fall out of bed and reached for something to grab, only to hit the glass on the nightstand, which came to crash on the ground.

“Forge!”

In moments, the room was lighted and Marsh by her side.

“Don’t come closer, there’s glass everywhere!” she warned him. “I’m fine.”

“I can see that,” he replied, his eyes riveted on her hand that was bleeding. “Come.”

Gently, he helped her stand and guided her to the bathroom, careful to choose a safe path. “Put your hand in water, I’ll be back immediately.”

“This is less serious than it looks,” Forge assured him when he reappeared with something similar to a brief case.

“I did not recall you being trained in healing,” Marsh retorted as he opened the latter, pinning her under his stare for a brief moment.

She did not reply, too amazed by what he brought. Beside him lay what could only be described as a medical kit, with compresses, balms, vials of herbs or alcohol…everything!

“You’re well equipped.”

“I did not expect to use that, but I always come prepared,” he explained, examining her cut. “Sazed offered this to me.”

“That’s a beautiful gift.”

“There are no shards and it’s not deep, meaning that you won’t get any stitches,” Marsh informed her.

“I’ve told you that this was nothing.”

He glared at her and resumed his ministrations. Having nothing to say, Forge settled for observing him at work, taking in the precise movements, the way his brow furrowed in concentration, how the steel of his eyes appeared almost translucent in the light, and—

“What’s the matter?” Marsh asked without looking away from her hand that he was wrapping in bandages.

“What?”

“I can feel you stare at me.”

Close to him as she was, Forge did not miss the line that briefly crossed his cheek as his jaw clenched. If his tone had not been telling enough, he was irritated, maybe even angry.

Then, it dawned on her. She was faced with the scarred side of his face.

“Oh! No, that had nothing to do with—I mean, it’s just the first time that I see you like that. You sure seem to know what you’re doing.”

The tension in Marsh's shoulders eased. “I have to thank my brother for that,” he sighed. “I used to patch him up whenever he came back from fights with young noblemen. Picked up a few things on the way.”

He did so; until his brother found someone else to take care of him.

“Is that how your interest in plants started?”

His hands, that were tying the bands, froze. “No. This…this was because of my mother. She was gravely ill, and—”

He closed his eyes, and felt a light pressure on his arm.

“I’m sorry for your mother,” Forge said softly, sincerely, the warmth of her hand seeping through the fabric of his shirt.

“And I’m sorry for yours.”

“She’s not…at least not to my knowledge.”

Marsh’s brow furrowed. Her father wore a doubled wedding band, something that was only found in Terrismen and Terriswomen that had lost their spouses.

“Her band was the only thing that she left us, so my father chose to solder it to his, even if…you know…”

A heavy silence followed.

“What would you be doing, if you were not taking care of your herd?” Marsh inquired all of a sudden.

“Oh, well, I’ve never asked that to myself, but…” Forge stopped, pensive, and then smiled. “I think I would be exploring the world; I’ve always dreamed of being like those adventurers I read about. And you?”

“I wanted to be an apothecary, a long time ago. But my father had other plans.”

“He forced you to lead the company in his place,” she remembered. “But you were also a blacksmith, weren’t you?”

Surprise marked his features. “How do you know?”

“Your musculature.”

“My…” His gaze sharpened, and her cheeks turned pink.

“Oh! No, Harmony, no, it’s not like that! I- I was not- I’m not ogling you! But I do have eyes! And my father is a blacksmith, so I can tell.”

Marsh did not seem really convinced, but did not insist.

“My father wanted me to know everything about steel-making, which implies meaning everything about what I work with.”

“Speaking about that, we should go back to bed, you have work tomorrow. Not that I don’t like discussing with you.”

Since he was finished, Forge exited the bathroom, but came to a halt upon noticing that her husband did not seem to have any intention of following her.

“Marsh?”

Looking at anywhere but her, the latter appeared…anxious. Her heart broke a little as she understood that he was blaming himself for what happened to her. She immediately turned heels, coming to stand in front of him.

“I forbid you to feel guilty for this. I’m fine,” she said, her tone firm. “This was not your fault, you hear me?”

“Yes, it was—”

“No—”

“This was not because of my troubles for sleeping,” he interrupted her, harsher than he intended.

“What? Then why…?”

Her confusion gave way to astonishment when she believed she saw him blush. Marsh, _blushing_?

“You…you moved during your sleep and somehow ended half on top of me, which startled me, and…so I pushed you…reflexively” he confessed, avoiding her dark brown irises.

“I’m so sorry!” she cried, her hand flying to her mouth. “I- I did not mean to bother you, or—I was told that I moved in my sleep, but…I’m so sorry!”

“No, it’s me. I’m…I’m not used to sharing a bed with someone. But now that I know, there should not be any problem.”

 

* * *

 

Forge smiled inwardly at the sight of Marsh’s tired face the following morning, certain that they were perfectly matching. Her amusement did not last, however, as she noticed during breakfast that he was also tensed. Thus, when he readied himself to join his friend, she took action.

“Everything is going to be alright, Marsh. You’re not alone, and he and you were careful in planning this,” she smiled encouragingly.

He gave her a dubitative glance. “I’ve told you that this might not change anything, because—”

“—some of the substances you work with can be unpredictable. Yes, you told me that,” she cut him off, a bit irritated that he was broaching the subject again despite the lengthy conversation they had before arriving in Fadrex.

“But I also told you that this was a great opportunity and that if you don’t seize it you might regret it your entire life,” she continued.

“You’re almost as stubborn as Vin, when you want to,” he remarked, scrutinizing her.

“Only for good reasons,” she grinned, and then added after a moment of hesitation. “I…I wish I could come with you.”

With the way he looked at her, she would not be surprised if she went out to discover that the cliffs were encased in ice.

“Absolutely not,” Marsh hissed.

“I know this is impossible, I was not asking. It’s just that…this is very important for you, and so I wish I could be by your side.”

_You already are._

“I’ll see you in the afternoon.”

 

“…and in that direction, beyond the cliff, is Tremredare, which was the former capital,” Allrianne explained before pausing as she noticed that Forge not seem particularly attentive. “You’re not listening to me, are you?”

“What? Oh yes, they are stunning.”

Her friend gently took her hand and turned her around, so they faced each other. Forge blushed at the long look she gave her. Well, she could no longer pretend that she would be able to repeat what she had just uttered.

“I’m sorry. I do enjoy our outing and I am grateful that you offered to show me the country, but…it’s true that I’m a bit distracted,” she admitted.

“You look tired,” Breeze's wife observed, then smiled impishly. “Eventful night?”

“What are you…?” Her eyes widened, and she buried her face in her hand, poorly hiding her burning cheeks. “Oh, harmony, no, it’s – it’s not what you think. We don’t…” she cleared her throat.

Allriannes expression immediately darkened. “What happened to your hand? Is that because of the nightmares?”

“No, it’s not Marsh's fault! “I startled him in his sleep and got hurt, but he took care of me very well,” she clarified with a light smile, her eyes fixed on the fresh bandages. “He was so worried…”

“Marsh is a much caring person than what people think,” the blonde agreed.

“You’re perfectly right. I…I meant to ask you…”

“What is going on between my father and Breeze?”

Forge was briefly caught off guard. If Marsh was more caring than what people thought, Allrianne was more perceptive and clever than what she let on.

“Yes, but you don’t have to talk about that if you don’t want to.”

“You’re my friend, that does not bother me,” she smiled, motioning for her to sit by her side on a rock that was flat enough to serve as a seat.

“It’s simple;  father would have preferred I marry a governor or the son of a governor to cement his relations with the neighboring countries. But I think what bothers him—and my little brother—the most, is our age difference. I’m eighteen and he is as twice as old.”

Well, Forge had to admit that she was a bit shocked the first time she saw them together, but they were so obviously in love that she quickly forgot that detail.

“Father must believe that Breeze is merely playing with me and that he will dump when he will grow tired or I too old,” she continued nonchalantly. “But what if I seduced him to get his money?”

“I don’t think so,” her friend declared. “Unless you want money so badly that you’re willing to defy your father in your choice of a husband. But you’re wealthy so that does not make much sense. And you’re less frivolous than you appear.”

The Young noblewoman let out a bubbly and melodious laugh. “Good observations. You said earlier that you were distracted?”

“I…I acted all brave in front of Marsh, but I’m actually worried. The steel-making process he is working on right now…is the same than the one that provoked the accident. This is why he was hesitant to come, and I insisted. I’m afraid something might happen to him. And I hate myself for having such little faith in him.”

“You shouldn’t be ashamed,” Allrianne objected, squeezing her hand that was not bandaged. “After all, we cannot help but worry about the people dear to our heart.”

 

* * *

 

Forge, Breeze and Allrianne were discussing in the palace’s gardens when they were informed of Marsh and his associate's return. The couple barely had the time to get up that Vedlew's daughter was hurrying toward the entrance, her skirts gathered about herself. They exchanged a knowing smile. They might have lost the battle of the bedroom arrangement, the result not having been the one they expected and hoped for, but there was still a war to fight.

Approaching the front doors, Forge slowed down and waited for the two men to join her. Apparently, they were not injured—thank you, Harmony! — but their faces did not betray any sign of disappointment or contentment.

“Marsh! So, did that go well? What was the result?”

“Forge, this is Terion, and Terion this is my wife, Forge.”

The man, thin with dark brown tied at the nape of his neck and typical of the area, seemed slightly taken aback by the fact that she was taller than him but gave her a warm smile.

“Oh, yes, I’m sorry, I’m forgetting my manners. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Forge curtsied.

“The pleasure is mine.”

“So?” she pressed, eyeing her husband with trepidation.

“The new process worked.”

As soon as Marsh finished his sentence, Forge threw herself at him and he opened his arms, anticipating her reaction. However, unlike the previous times she did not merely embraced him but also kissed him on the cheek.

“I’m so happy for you!” she cried.

He did not reply, too stunned. Next to him, Terion was watching the scene, amusement sparkling in his dark green, slightly drooping eyes.

“How did you proceed?” Forge continued, as if nothing out of ordinary had happened.

“Terion…Terion had the idea to use oxygen instead of air, which increases the productivity and so will reduce costs,” Marsh said after pulling himself back together. “The furnace was also modified to avoid or at least reduce strong reactions.”

“This is great news!” she commented and turned toward the scientist. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Your husband is too modest; I merely made some adjustments. The rest is all thanks to him.”

“Why am I not surprised? We should celebrate!”

“What an excellent idea!” Allrianne called from behind. “I’ll take care of everything!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Snowdrop: hope.


End file.
